#and or pulling out my phone and playing a game like a toddler

[laenordeservedbetter]

My Way

Words: 6.7k

Pairing: Modern!Rhaenyra Targaryen x Fem!Hightower Reader

Synopsis: Rhaenyra wants a scandal. You want to get back at your father. What happens when Laena brings the two of you together?

Warnings: Otto Hightower, Criston Cole (this one-shot is not Criston Cole friendly, I'm sorry), mentions of assault, cursing, inaccurate business jargon, self-deprecating thoughts, drinking. [Let me know if I missed any.]

masterlist || previous work

—

“What did you say to Jackie?” You seethe, slamming your fists onto your father’s desk.

“Nothing, my dear. Why? Did something happen?” He questions, briefly glancing at his lackey, Larys, prior to meeting your gaze smugly.

You could feel the sting in your palms from clenching your fists, but you paid no heed to it. Despite your figure towering over him, Otto remained in his seat as if your outburst was merely entertainment for him, fueling your ire. “You know what you did.” You spat.

“If you are referring to your companion’s refusal to return your calls, you must know that I played no hand in that.” Otto says calmly.

You regarded him with a look of disbelief. The earliest occurrence you could recollect that is akin to your current situation was when you went on your first date. You believed that it was your fault dear Tabitha ran for the hills. You were inconsolable for weeks on end until your older brother, Gwayne, informed you of your father’s… meddling. You know not of the details of the transaction between Tabitha and your father, but you did notice how luxurious Tabitha’s life became through her online feed that you definitely did not go through every single day for an entire rotation. Numerous incidents succeeded the first to the point where you could not recall the exact number. Now, your date, Jackie, the daughter of one of your father’s associates, has been denying your calls after drawing up plans to get dinner together. You knew that your father was responsible.

“Maybe Jacqueline has seen reason.” Otto offers, interlocking his hands together as he leaned against his chair. “It’s about time you do the same, daughter.”

“I am being reasonable. You can’t keep meddling in my affairs like I’m some toddler.” You argue.

“I will stop meddling in your affairs once you start pulling your act together.” Otto retorts.

Taking a deep breath, you will yourself to keep calm. As calm as you can manage, of course. “And how do you suppose I do that, hm? By marrying one of your senile friends?”

You could tell the insult irked him by the way he blinked twice whilst keeping a smirk on his face, bringing you a semblance of triumph.

“No, but now that you mention it, I do have a list of eligible bachelors that are interested in you. Perhaps you should take a look.” He pushes a stack of papers towards you.

It dawned on you that he had it prepared before you stomped your way into his office. He anticipated your arrival, which meant that you played right into his game. You smile mockingly at him, accepting the papers. Otto smiled back, believing that he somehow managed to get through to you. However, his self-satisfaction melted once you flung the papers into the trash bin before walking out of his office.

-

Rhaenyra rolls her eyes at her phone before tossing it to Daemon, “Read.” She orders, her tone leaving no room for discussion.

Daemon, although stunned at the abrupt shift in Rhaenyra’s expression, catches the phone with ease. Sighing, he goes on to read the headline of the recent article centered on their family’s —or his— wrongdoing.

“From Genius Turned Mad Man: Daemon Targaryen Assaults Criston Cole in Broad Daylight”

“Well, this article is overexaggerated.” Daemon jibes after reading the entirety of the article. “I barely touched him.” He flops down on the couch, throwing the phone in the air and catching it (barely). Despite Rhaenyra’s strong glare, he repeats the movement until his niece breaks the silence.

“The media is in a frenzy.” Rhaenyra points out. “A few Criston Cole ‘defenders’ on social media are demanding that you be put in jail,” She states, her tone growing louder as she speaks each reaction. “The Baratheons plan to back out on their investment, father is under severe stress that goes beyond planning the company’s annual party, and news outlets are questioning Baela and Rhaena’s safety with you as a father.”

The last information brings Daemon back to his senses. He sits up swiftly, Rhaenyra’s phone landing on his head. Daemon grasps the phone furiously, flinging it across the room. Rhaenyra doesn’t spare her presumably dead phone a glance as she continues looking at Daemon and his sour expression. He had a right to be angry, she thought. But he did bring this upon himself.

“How dare they include my children.” Daemon raves.

“They’re just looking for any excuse to attack our family.” Rhaenyra utters gently.

“Did they even look into the bigger picture?”

“They never do.”

“That whore deserved it.”

Rhaenyra nods, “Perhaps he did.”

Daemon raises an eyebrow, as if challenging her to say more. “But?”

“But… what’s done is done. Our problem now is how we can fix this.”

Daemon opens his mouth to speak before realizing that it was no use trying to instigate a fight with Rhaenyra. She is not the object of his ire, after all. With a sigh, he looks at Rhaenyra expectantly. His niece has gotten the family out of precarious situations multiple times and was exceptional at it. Daemon would think Rhaenyra was suited in PR if he didn’t believe that she was destined for greater things.

“What is that look about?”

“Give me solutions and I will follow them.” Daemon shrugs.

Rhaenyra contemplates his words for a moment before ultimately saying, “No.”

Daemon scoffs, “No?”

“You got yourself into this mess, you get yourself out of it.” Rhaenyra says unwaveringly. She was exhausted of Daemon’s antics and having to clean up after his messes. It was time for him to handle the consequences of his own choices without being coddled. He gets enough of that from Viserys, thank you very much.

Daemon’s jaw clenches, disapproving of Rhaenyra’s denial.

“Well?” Rhaenyra looks on expectantly.

“I suppose I could think of two ideas.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“The first one is,” Daemon exhales theatrically, the thought being enough to make him want to hurl himself off the building. “publicly apologizing to Criston and vowing to never do it again, as well as to right my wrongs.” Rhaenyra and Daemon scrunch their faces at the suggestion, for the both of them knew that action would contradict Daemon’s entire being.

“And the second?”

Daemon gives Rhaenyra a sly grin.

“Create a bigger scandal that would make this one look like child’s play.”

Rhaenyra lets out a laugh, mirroring Daemon’s expression. “Now that, I can get behind.”

-

One thing you loved more than gossip was Laena Velaryon. Your friendship began through the business transaction between your father and Corlys Velaryon. You were brought to the office by your father, who thought it was a fine idea to acquaint you with Corlys’ son, Laenor. To his astonishment, you and Laenor got along quite well. However, it was Laena you were drawn towards. You were two peas in a pod. Both of you had a knack for defying your fathers’ wishes and visiting unrenowned coffee shops. Though, the purpose of your visits was more about escaping the scrutiny of the public (and by extension, your families) than actual coffee.

You’re in one of your favorite shops, drinking coffee with Laena that you actually enjoy. The ambience was remarkable. The place was always clean, the staff were nice, and there were booths that acted like little houses with curtains that could obscure you from the other people inside the café. It was another quiet day, which was alarming. It’s been like that for weeks now.

Lyman, the owner, opened the curtains with one hand and a tray of lemon cakes in his other. He places it on the table between you and Laena carefully, “Here you go, girls.” He says, offering both of you a smile.

It was a strange sight. For as long as you’ve been visiting the shop, Dyana has been the one to serve you. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen the girl since entering the place. Curiosity gets the better of you, prompting your question, “Is Dyana not working today?”

You wish you hadn’t asked.

Lyman’s smile falters. “We had to let her go.” He explains, “Business hasn’t been that good lately. It’s just me and Sandra now. If this keeps up, we’ll have to close the shop.” He says, his gaze on the counter.

You and Laena share a look, as if having a silent agreement.

“But don’t worry, girls.” Lyman smiles once more, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “If the shop closes, I’ll give you my lemon cake recipe so you could have it anytime you want.”

“Lyman…” Laena starts.

Lyman waves her off. “It’s alright now, Laena. Sandra and I will be okay.” He winks before leaving to go back to the counter.

Laena sighs, shaking her head. “Tell me what your dad did again.” She requests, focusing on your problem for now. If you offer Lyman help directly, he wouldn’t accept it. Better to address the issue without him knowing.

“Influenced Jackie to refuse taking my calls, then handed me a stack of names of eligible bachelors interested in me.” You frown, “I wish he would just stop messing with my life, you know? Every time I think I’m close to being happy, he rips it from me. I couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t attempt to use me for his own gain. He sucks the life out of everyone who loves him and it’s so exhausting.”

Laena looks at you sympathetically, feeding you a portion of lemon cake. She waits for you to finish eating before asking, “So, what do you want to do?”

“I want to get back at him.” You mirror Laena’s earlier actions, giving her a bite of the lemon cake. She shoots you a knowing look which you disregard by finishing your coffee, looking away from her.

“Among all your attempts at getting back at your father, which one has worked?” Laena questions rhetorically. Seeing your discomfited look, your friend pushes you further. “You need to take your goal seriously, not just doing things that he can simply brush off. If you want to get back at him, do something that will really leave him unconsolable for a long period of time.”

“Like a scandal?”

Laena raises a brow, “What kind?”

“I don’t know, like… Targeting his favorite business associates on Twitter, spread nasty rumors about our own company, go out with someone he despises or go on a date with someone older than him, spend a large amount of money on a shitty private jet, give people raises without consulting him...”

Laena ponders your ideas, playing out possible scenarios in her head. Your brows furrow, her words to you a couple days prior ringing in your ears.

I am a visionary, Hightower.

She gasps, gripping your arm firmly, the sudden movement jolting you forward.

“Have you met my cousin Rhaenyra?”

-

“You’re going to take a Hightower as a date to the biggest party of the year? Have you gone mad?” Daemon clenches his jaw, scowling. Laena stood beside him, rolling her eyes at his frenzy of rage. “Do you have any idea how long that family has been plotting against ours?”

Rhaenyra shrugs.

“Since the beginning of time, Rhaenyra!” Daemon answers himself, scandalized at Rhaenyra’s impassiveness. She was going to defy centuries-old rivalry by bringing a Hightower to the Targaryen company’s annual party. Not to mention that Rhaenyra’s date is one of Otto Hightower’s children, making the circumstances worse. Oh, how Daemon hated that cunt. His greed knew no bounds and neither did his ambition. If Daemon had not stepped in, Otto’s quest for power might have dented their family. And now Rhaenyra plans to step on his efforts. Daemon’s hard work will be all for naught. “This would ruin our family’s reputation.” He states, matter-of-factly.

“No, it wouldn’t.” Laena murmurs.

Daemon stares her down.

“Uncle,” Rhaenyra interjects, remaining practical. “This is the scandal we were looking for.”

“This wasn’t what I had in mind.” The silver-haired man expresses.

Rhaenyra regards him for a moment, trying to see the situation from her uncle’s point of view. The Hightowers, second only to the Targaryen business dynasty, are their major rivals. Otto Hightower, the CEO, has been doing everything and anything he can to usurp the title of the biggest conglomerate in Westeros. He came close to achieving his plans once upon a time. Daemon had done something to stop him, but the Targaryens did not come out of the battle unscathed. It took years to bring back the shareholders’ trust and improve their defenses. Getting close to a Hightower would be a suicide mission. Rhaenyra’s date might try to earn her trust in order to achieve her true goal: to gather information on the enemy.

But, as it stands, the Targaryens are grilled by the masses due to Daemon’s recent altercation with Criston Cole. Additionally, the Baratheons refused to move forward with their investment, disliking the idea of their business being affected because they are associated with the Targaryens. Rhaenyra has to resolve this conflict before permanent damage is done. Being associated with a Hightower may do just that.

“Our stocks are plummeting because of your dispute with that Dornish boy. Criston works for Otto. Taking a Hightower to the party would be a power play. It will appear as an alliance between our conglomerates. A truce, if you will.”

The words cause the gears in Daemon’s head to turn. The act would indeed serve as a silent agreement between the families. Cole would be humiliated, which was an added bonus. The company he’s working for humbling him by brokering a deal with the family of the person who destroyed his nose. It will be quite the spectacle. But something wasn’t quite adding up.

“Why would the Hightowers agree to such a thing?” He asks. “Cole has been working for them for a long time now. He’s practically an honorary Hightower. Why insult him through an alliance with us?”

Laena speaks up, smiling sheepishly, “Here’s the thing…” She chuckles nervously, “We’re not… exactly… brokering a deal with all the Hightowers.”

“Just one.” Rhaenyra elucidates.

“What do you mean?”

“It’d be better if she explains it herself.” Says Laena.

Daemon purses his lips, his patience wearing thin. “Who’s ‘she’?”

As if on cue, you enter the room, everyone turning their attention to you. “Apologies for my tardiness.” You say guiltily, freeing your hair from the dark hoodie you were wearing. “I had to get past security.” As you remove your sunglasses, Daemon moves towards you like a predator stalking his prey. You meet his gaze, annoyance shortly crossing your features. “Daemon, is it?”

He doesn’t blink.

You don’t let his coolness perturb you. That’s just how Daemon is, Laena once said when she was talking about her family. He seemed…. Not nice, exactly… But he wasn’t giving you any indication that he was going to punch your face, so it’s something, right?

“I’m Y/n Hightower.”

“Hm.”

Your eyebrows raise in disbelief. You’d think that he’d offer more words based on the way he seemed intent on standing before you. “Right.” You sigh, moving past him to greet Rhaenyra.

The heir to the Targaryen dynasty was clad in grey suit and pants, her tie loose. Rhaenyra welcomes you with a warm smile, ushering you towards the couch. “Please. Sit,” She instructs, waiting until you’ve taken a seat to offer you light refreshments. It hits you suddenly that she was just as nervous as you were, easing your nerves to some extent.

“Lemon cake?” Your eyes light up upon sighting the delicacy, meeting Rhaenyra’s gaze.

She looked flabbergasted that that was the first dessert you turned your attention towards. “Would you like some?” Rhaenyra offers you the plate with a spoon. She knew beforehand that you had a liking for lemon cakes because of Laena’s recent Instagram post. (You and Laena took a photo of you eating lemon cakes, the name of the café plastered on the background.) However, it did little to help her hide the astonishment she felt as she watched you take the cake from her hands eagerly.

Daemon regarded you with thinly veiled disgust. A bug within his family’s premises. Look at you, eating cake and making yourself at home while Rhaenyra is made to play the role of welcoming host. His niece was a willing participant, of course, but that did not make the thought easier to swallow.

You ignore his glare until you could no longer bear it. “Is something the matter, Daemon?”

“Out of all your siblings, why are you the one making a deal with us in behalf of your family?” was his query.

“None of them know I’m here.” You state impassively, passing the plate to Rhaenyra, who fixates on how meticulously the slice of cake was cut in half. It was an impressive feat, bearing in mind that you weren’t using a knife. “Eat.” You murmur to her while resuming your staring match with Daemon.

“Why not?” Daemon scowls.

“I’m doing this behind their back.”

“Why?”

“I want to piss my father off.”

Enthralled by your words, Daemon (at long last) displays an emotion other than disdain, “And why is that?” He tilts his head. Maybe you weren’t as boring as he thought.

“Must there be a reason for wanting to anger him?”

“For me? No. For you? Yes.” Daemon says bluntly, “You’re his daughter. He must have done something unforgivable for you to turn to the enemy.”

“‘Enemy’ is exaggerating it, but alright.”

You tell the three other people present in the room about your frustration with Otto, not leaving anything out. You tell them about the meddling, the lengths he went to in order to cover up your failed romances, the list of eligible suitors, how Otto continues to undermine your hard work, and the rest of the sordid details that even Laena wasn’t aware of. By the end of your report, Daemon was stupefied.

If he didn’t have any more reason to despise Otto Hightower, he surely does now. Otto was despicable in business, but Daemon never thought that he would be the same with his children. Does this man hold no love for anything other than power?

“Your father is a cunt.” says Daemon.

Rhaenyra and Laena gasp at his crassness. He really said those words in front of you, Otto’s daughter. While you might not have the best relationship with your father, it must be grating to have others speak about him in a bad light, the two women think.

You nod, agreeing with Daemon’s words. “I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

The two Targaryen women lock eyes, shrugging.

“The party is in a week, correct?” You ask to confirm the details.

Rhaenyra shakes her head in affirmation. “Yes. The Hightowers are invited, as always,” Even though your families were at “war” with each other, there was still a place for your family in the Targaryen annual parties. You believed that it was Rhaenyra’s strategy.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

“—But you will be arriving the party with me.” Rhaenyra continues, analyzing your expression. “We have to arrive late, in the middle of my uncle’s speech.”

“Quite the dramatic entrance.” You murmur, a smile gracing your lips. “I like you already, Targaryen.”

Rhaenyra grins triumphantly in response.

You spend the rest of the evening planning out your actions for the party. Daemon continued treating you with apprehension, though he was less insufferable about it. Thank the Seven. Rhaenyra proved to be a pleasant company, assuring you that you would never have a boring moment in the event. The party would last for eight hours, beginning at four p.m. sharp. Every important person you could think of will be there, all the more reason why you and Rhaenyra need to make sure that this would be the biggest scandal of the month.

You just hope that it will drive your father mad.

-

The day of the party rolls around and you are bubbling with anticipation and anxiety. You and Rhaenyra have been texting each other back and forth about the chaos that would ensue in just a few hours. As you read her recent message, you find yourself grinning at the kitchen table, giddy with excitement for what was to come.

“Ooh, what’s that?” Gwayne speaks from behind you, grabbing your phone. The shock gives you no time to react, your older brother scrolling through the messages. “Who’s ‘R’?” He stretches his arm, holding the phone above his head, and standing on his tiptoes to ensure you wouldn’t be able to reach him. “You have plans tonight?”

Letting your impulse take over, you punch his shoulder, causing him to drop your phone from his hand. Gwayne groans in discomfort while you pick up your phone, identifying where he stopped reading. You let out a sigh of relief once you realize that he wasn’t able to read anything that would indicate your plans for this evening.

“Nothing.” You state stiffly.

“Come on, I know when you’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.” You grit your teeth, wondering why he wouldn’t drop the subject.

Gwayne, sensing your displeasure, raises his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, don’t tell me. But the Targaryen party is tonight. Are you sure you want to miss it?”

You recall your earlier practice with Laena, reciting the script she has given you word for word. “I have an important meeting. I can’t go with you tonight.”

“Dad won’t like that.” Gwayne reminds you, “You know how much he loathes them. We need to form a united front against the Targaryens.”

“If he hates them so much, why bother going at all?”

“To keep track of their moves.” Gwayne explains as he takes one of the chocolate pancakes your cooks had made. He then proceeds to chew very loudly in your ear, invading your personal space. “Business 101, sister.” He says, “See, you’d know that if you actually listened to father.”

“Between the scheming and the bullshit he says, it’s hard to tell which one is worth listening to.” You move away from him, sitting down on a kitchen stool.

“What kind of meeting are you going to, anyway? Is it more important than the party?”

“Yes.”

It wasn’t technically a lie. Your upcoming scandal with Rhaenyra is more important than the party. But then again, you’d have to be in the event for the scandal to work. But you can’t tell Gwayne that you’re going. It’ll ruin the surprise. But at the same time, your father will wonder why you aren’t going. He’ll probably send Cole after you.

Ugh.

Criston.

“Is it a date?”

“You could say that.” You try to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“What do you want me to tell dad?” Gwayne looks at you seriously, his brows furrowing.

Ever since he could talk, Gwayne’s main goal has been to gain your father’s approval. He thought that if he played the dutiful son, Otto would hand the company over to him. And for a while, your father did give off the impression that Gwayne would be his successor.

Until Alicent decided to go no contact.

You have to applaud Alicent’s resilience. She was twenty-three, fresh out of business school. She had money in her account, but it wasn’t much. Her departure was sudden. You didn’t hear from her until two years later, when her face was plastered on billboards across Westeros as a creative director for a renowned fashion brand. A year after, she started her own fashion company in the luxury industry. Your father reached out to her in order to “reconnect” and they’ve maintained a business relationship since. While the reason for Alicent’s exit remained undisclosed (even to you), it is clear that she is the most favored among your siblings. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Otto gives her the company when he retires.

Since then, Gwayne has decided he was going to “step up”, become the next man of the house. He would take on more responsibility that he can handle, refusing to buckle under the weight of the pressure and hoping that one day, Otto would see him.

“Tell dad I’ll be late.” You mumble, but it was enough for him to hear.

“You won’t be late, though. You won’t attend.” Gwayne points out.

“Don’t worry about it.” You smile, patting his shoulder on the way out.

-

Hours succeeding your father and brothers’ exit from your estate, you began to get ready. You took your mother’s infamous red dress from her closet, pairing it with some of Rhaenyra’s jewels that she lent you days prior. As you put on the necklace with the Targaryen crest, thrill washes over you. The piece looked good on you and the colors suited you well.

Otto taught you that going against your family is the greatest iniquity you could ever execute. But if committing this grave sin meant seeing the color from his face drain in front of the masses, you would carry out this act of treason a hundred times over. You felt no remorse for what you were about to do. It was about time you paid your father back for the hurt he caused you. However trivial and juvenile it may seem, you had dreamt of this day for a long, long time, despite the specifics being last to get finalized.

You finish putting on your makeup just in time for Rhaenyra’s car to arrive in front of the mansion. You open your door to the sight of her in an off-shoulder, black sleek dress. Her hair was styled in intricate braids with a few strands let out from the left side of her face. She looked otherworldly, like a goddess, perhaps. Rhaenyra had a beauty that could make individuals conclude themselves blessed purely by being around her existence.

“You look lovely.”

“You look beautiful.”

A laugh escapes your lips, finding it amusing, the way you spoke at the same time.

“You look lovely.” You repeat, taking in her features once more.

Her smile widens, “Thank you.” She observed you with awe and another emotion that you couldn’t decipher.

Throughout Rhaenyra’s life, there was never an instance wherein her thoughts were silenced. Her mind consists of a plethora of ideas that tangle themselves together, leading to everlasting noise inside her head. But at the moment, her world was entirely quiet. All she could ruminate about was how ethereal you looked.

“Let’s go?”

Your words snapped her out of the trance-like state, pulling her back to reality. She offers you her hand, which you take in yours, marveling at how gentle her grip was. You make your way to the Mercedes and Rhaenyra opens the door for you.

“And they say chivalry is dead.” You joke as you enter the back seat, Rhaenyra following soon after with an eye roll.

-

Numerous photographers and journalists lined the entrance of the venue, as if they were waiting for something interesting to happen. Some of them were sat on the ground, scrolling through their phones. These people are likely the ones who weren’t permitted inside the party. The sun has almost set, which meant that the temperature wasn’t as harsh as the earlier hours. But they’ve spent their entire afternoon under its glare, making you feel sorry for them. The heat was a formidable enemy, a sentiment everyone in your vicinity shares.

You feel a hand on top of yours, the tenderness of Rhaenyra’s touch making your breath hitch.

Gods, she’s playing this act a bit too well.

“Daemon texted me.” Rhaenyra says softly, squeezing your hand. “He’s delivering his speech now.”

Gaze fixed upon your hands together, you hum in response, then look back at Rhaenyra. You try to decrypt her emotions, almost losing yourself within those amethyst eyes you find so beguiling. You wanted to know her thoughts about this, if she wanted to push through. A part of your desire to know is due to your own doubts. Doubts that aren’t about the mess you were about to get yourself into, but rather the need to save Rhaenyra from your family before things get out of hand. The Hightowers have done well to mislead the people, persuading them to think that the family is the epitome of composed and organized. However, those who have seen what you and your relatives are like behind closed doors, know that everything you’ve shown to the public is merely a deception. Tonight, would be no different. If Rhaenyra gets insight on how fucked up your family was, she might want to run for the hills.

The second reason is simpler than the first.

You want to know Rhaenyra.

You want to understand how her brain works. You want to know how she is able to get her family through muddy waters and how she comes up with solutions that does not only benefit the Targaryens, but also everyone who associates themselves with them (workers included). You want to know her opinions on things, even the random ones. You want to know how she spends her time when she’s not working. Does she spend it like you do, reading books and doing anything you can think of, or does she have her own preference for how she utilizes the days without work. You want to know what she doesn’t like. You want to know if she hates Jason Lannister like Laena.

You don’t know Rhaenyra Targaryen, but you want to.

The questions you wish to ask don’t come out of your own mouth, however, as Rhaenyra beats you to it.

“Are you sure about this?” Rhaenyra’s brows were furrowed when asking the question, as if she has been thinking for a long time if she wanted to say it. The query was sudden, Rhaenyra’s words coming out in one breath. The situation was laughable, really. You’ve spent the last two minutes trying to figure her out while she was worrying about the same thing with you.

You can’t help but return the question, “Are you?”

“I asked you first.” Rhaenyra huffs, not liking that you evaded her query by shooting the question back at her.

“I’m sure.” You try to quell her worries by your words, ensuring that you sounded as sincere as possible. Rhaenyra doesn’t look convinced by your statement, cocking her head to the side with a challenging look. Gods, this woman was stubborn. “I’m serious, Rhaenyra.” You play with the ring on her finger, noting how that was the only one she was wearing in her hand, an unusual sight, given her love of rings.

Rhaenyra stares at you for a moment longer before determining that she believes you. With a sigh, she puts her phone back in her purse, getting ready to leave the car.

“I wasn’t joking when I asked you the same question, though.” You confess. “Are you sure about this?” Rhaenyra doesn’t respond for a while, which made you even more anxious. “Because if you’re not, then we can just go separately. No one will have to know and we can go about our lives like before.”

The idea of going back to a life without you scheming with her was unacceptable to Rhaenyra. Although she has only been granted the presence of your company for a week and a half, those days have been the highlight of her year so far. To call off your plans would entail the possibility of never speaking to you again. Rhaenyra would rather face Otto Hightower herself than be divested of the chances to hear your laughter. So, with a shake of her head, she utters, “No.”

Your face falls. It was to be expected, really. Who would want to involve themselves with you, with your family? Rhaenyra has every reason to back out. You probably look so stupid right now. But this is for the better. Rhaenyra wouldn’t have to deal with your family and wouldn’t get roped up in your father’s schemes. She probably didn’t even want—

“No, sorry, I meant, I don’t want to go back to the way it was before.” Rhaenyra confesses apologetically. Seeing you crestfallen brought an ache in her chest that gradually spread throughout her entire body like wildfire. “I’m sure of this.” She reassures you, squeezing your hand. Rhaenyra gives you a few seconds to breathe before she tells you that it would be best if the two of you head to the venue now, lest you miss Daemon’s speech and let your strategy go awry.

You thank Erryk for driving you to the place and he wishes you luck before you and Rhaenyra step out of the car.

The journalists, reporters, and photographers don’t notice you for a while, wrapped up in conversations amongst themselves. Erryk drives past you with astonishing speed, leading the press to turn their heads and question whose car it was. Erryk was no longer in sight, but in his place was you and Rhaenyra. The people stared at the two of you, dumbfounded.

“That’s Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

“She’s late.”

“She brought a date.”

“Who is that?”

“No way.”

“It’s Y/n Hightower.”

“Hightower?!”

“Hightower.”

“What are they doing together?”

“Aren’t their families—”

Rhaenyra turns to you, locking your arm with hers, “Ready?”

You exhale shakily, “Ready.” Closing your eyes momentarily, you steel yourself for what was to come.

When you open your eyes again, the media headed towards you and Rhaenyra. Mics were being shoved into your faces left and right. Photographers were snapping pictures of you, the light from their cameras blinding. It was a miracle you could still see.

Three of Rhaenyra’s bodyguards paved the way for you, guaranteeing your safety. They held off the press and made certain that they wouldn’t get too close. You held Rhaenyra’s hand, letting her guide you towards the entrance of the venue. You haven’t even faced the difficult part yet things were beginning to get overwhelming. Though, having Rhaenyra by your side did make it easier.

The security guards positioned at the entrance opened the doors as soon as they saw Rhaenyra. They bowed their heads in respect. You couldn’t hide your grin even if you tried.

“Don’t let go.” Rhaenyra murmured, referring to your interlocked hands.

“I don’t plan to, my darling.”

You could have sworn you heard Rhaenyra’s breath hitch as her grip tightened around your fingers. Together, you entered the venue, walking the red carpet laid before you. The place was massive. Banners with the Targaryen symbol of the three-headed dragon was placed all over the area. There was even a giant dragon statue near the stage. It seemed excessive, but there was no doubt that everything screamed luxury. While you’ve been to Targaryen parties before, you haven’t paid much attention until now.

“—And I thank my brother, Viserys, for giving me the opportunity to—” Daemon’s words get stuck on his throat when his eyes land on his niece and you. Viserys smiles at him cluelessly, wondering why he stopped in the middle of his speech. Aemma had to nudge him to turn his attention to the doors. Daemon hides behind a smirk as everyone in the room looks at you.

The attendees’ disbelief rose to a clamor, trying to make sense of what they were seeing. A Hightower and a Targaryen side by side. Surely, this would be included in the history books to come. Being under the scrutiny of the public gave you an uneasy feeling. You felt like a caged animal, a spectacle. Everyone was looking at you like you’ve done something wrong.

Taking a deep breath, you recall the lessons your father gave you on propriety. You hold your head up high as you waked with Rhaenyra, not letting go of her hand.

Walk now, overthink later.

You spot your father and your siblings on the left, near the stage. Otto had an incredulous look on his face, his eyes widening in horror. You school your expression, refusing to laugh as you imagined the things he would say to you when you got home. If he would even allow you to come home, that is. Gwayne and your brothers stood, dumbfounded, while Alicent raised a glass of champagne towards you, downing it in one gulp. Your father was too fixated on looking horrified at the scene before him to notice. The man would not move. Criston stood by his side with his jaw set firmly. It was hard to tell who was more appalled. Him or Otto. The former’s gaze hardened, staring Rhaenyra down.

At last, you make it to the front. Rhaenyra brings you to the stage, beside her parents, whom you’ve never shared an interaction with.

“Hello.” You smile shyly, unsure what to do.

“Hello, Y/n.” Viserys and Aemma reply, both of them grinning. This was the first time Rhaenyra brought someone with her during a Targaryen party. With a grand entrance, if they may add. They saw the smile on Rhaenyra’s face as she looked at you and immediately knew that you were someone who made their daughter happy. They had more questions, sure, but Rhaenyra seemed content around you and that’s what matters for now.

“It appears my niece has made quite the entrance.” Daemon says into the mic in order to get the attention back to him. “If my speech bore you, you could’ve just said so.” That earned a laugh from the guests.

“Sorry, uncle.” Rhaenyra whispers even though Daemon knew quite well what was going to happen.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” More laughter came from the crowd, successfully turning the attention away from you and Rhaenyra. You silently thanked Daemon for the ephemeral respite from the critical eyes of the masses. “I would like to thank Viserys for giving me a chance in helping him plan this party.” He turns to Viserys, “Your trust means greatly to me. I love you.” Daemon whispers the last sentence and…

Wait.

Is that a tear?

“Lastly, I would like to thank you all for coming and I hope you enjoy the evening.” Applause echoed around the room as Daemon finished his speech, stepping away from the mic and letting Rhaenyra take over. The praise died down promptly, the audience observing Rhaenyra with keen interest, eagerly awaiting her words.

“Good evening, everyone.” The silver-haired woman started. “I apologize for my tardiness. As you know, I’ve never been one to keep track of time. To my uncle, I offer my apologies as well for cutting your hour-long speech short. I know how far you had to go to perfect your writing abilities.” The sea of people dissolved into laughter once again. Daemon narrowed his eyes at her remark. He did not like being mocked. That much was clear. “The Targaryen party is an event that I look forward to each year. Not only do I get to see your lovely faces, but also the simple truth that it brings us together. We may not always see eye to eye on things, especially in business,” Rhaenyra locks eyes with Otto, “but there is no denying that during this day, we are granted the privilege to treat each other as companions. The tensions are eased and everyone gets to enjoy each other’s company,” Your father bristles at Rhaenyra’s words while others murmur in unison, agreeing with Rhaenyra.

“This event is dear for me and my family, which is why I chose today to make my announcement.” Rhaenyra reaches for your hand, “My love,” You move forward, intertwining your fingers together. She analyzes the crowd nervously, fearing their possible response to her impending revelation. “You may know her as an influential and stubborn businesswoman,” You hear Jason Lannister snicker at the word “stubborn”, still not over the stunt you pulled with the Starks. Jason’s family was promised a great deal from the latter, but because of your interference, the Starks offered their contract to you instead. “Or you might know her as Otto Hightower’s daughter . . . I’ve had the honor in getting to know the different sides of her and I can say that she is definitely as tenacious as she looks. It’s a miracle I’m here today, really.” Rhaenyra jests, “But, in all seriousness, this woman has inspired me to do better every day and never failed to offer her support whenever I needed it. You know her as a businesswoman, but right now, I would like to reintroduce her to all of you as the magnificent Y/n Hightower. My partner, the love of my life, and most importantly… my fiancée.”

Otto lets out a strangled cough.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Sassy Man Jason 👏🏻

⚣👏🏻 A/N → This is not a repost, this is a new original. Once again, another idea that came to me while I was in the middle of writing out one of my Conner fics and finishing my revisions to the third installment of Primal. I saw this on TikTok about the sassy men apocalypse and the first thing that came to mind was our favorite needy soft boi anti-hero.

⚣👏🏻 Summary → You didn't know why, but Jason had been giving you an attitude all day. Rolling his eyes, giving, you stank looks, and treating you like a cold piece of pie. What did you even do? And when did he get this freaking sassy?

⚣👏🏻 Words → 1.7k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 👏🏻

“Jason, what is wrong with you?”

For what reason you couldn’t figure out, your boyfriend Jason Todd had an attitude since he walked through your apartment door. All day you kept receiving side-eyes, stank looks, and silent treatments anytime you tried to talk to or touch him.

Which, for your boyfriend, meant something had to seriously be wrong.

Even if he was weary of physical contact, he always sought out your comforting touch no matter what. Outside of his family (who were basically only one step above random strangers), you were the only one Jason allowed free reign to hug, hold, caress, and more.

Of course, he also preferred you being the same way and not allowing other people to touch you except for him, but that was a different story for another day.

But, today seemed to be different as Jason was almost treating you like his brothers. Not in the exact same way as he didn’t want to be bothered with you or avoided you. Moreso like he’d snuff your appearance or roll his eyes when you said something.

You were both currently on your bed in your room snuggled under one of your many blankets. You had a show you and Jason were currently binging on while snacking on some popcorn.

Usually, whenever you two would sit down to watch TV, read, play games, or even just enjoy each other’s presence, he’d pull you into his large embrace, secretly enjoying how you warmed his body up. And the stronger man would keep that hold on you the entire time, even if you tried to get up to go to the bathroom or grab some more food.

None of that happened. Jason sat his entire body on the other side of your queen-sized mattress, with the blanket wrapped around him.

It was actually a little funny seeing his large body laid down on your bed, as he had to make sure he didn’t tip himself over too far with his body weight and fall off the edge.

He even kept snatching the blanket from you every time you tried to snuggle under a little more. You had to buy all bigger-sized blankets to be able to cover both you and him since the ones you had before definitely were not up to the job. They sometimes barely managed to cover you.

So, imagine your annoyance when every time you move to adjust the blanket, it got snatched out of your hand. And the culprit behind it was lying next to you while giving you the world’s worst stank-eye like you did something to him before tucking more of the soft material under his neck, looking like a furry soft plushy with only his head sticking out the opening.

When you tried to get him to give you some of the blanket, he turned away from you, while still giving you more side-eye. That’s when you had asked what was wrong with you, while he just looked back at you, before turning his head back around and opening up his phone if the sound of him opening social media was any indicator.

It was official, your boyfriend was acting like the world’s biggest freaking toddler. And you still had no idea what brought on this treatment.

You looked over at the man, his blanket-covered broad back greeting you in return. Scooching over, you tried to hug him from behind, thinking maybe that would help but he only shook your body off before scooting himself closer to the edge.

“Are you kidding me?” You asked the vigilante, who only continued to ignore you while scrolling on his phone.

Now, it was your turn to roll your eyes as you basically sat in the middle of the bed with a boyfriend who apparently wanted nothing to do with you.

“Why are you acting mad at me? What did I do?” You continue to ask, starting to feel upset at how he was treating you.

When you were still met with silence, you huffed out a breath before going to move off the bed, “Whatever bro,” You muttered before grabbing your phone and stomping out to your living room.

Plopping yourself down on the couch, you unlocked your phone and opened your Messages app, deciding if your boyfriend wouldn’t tell you what was wrong, maybe someone else could help give you an idea.

The sounds of tapping on your phone filled the quiet space outside of the muffle from your TV in the bedroom as you typed a message to Dick, figuring he could help you figure out why Jason was so upset with you.

You: hey Dick?

Dick: hey Y/N! What’s up?

You: did something happen last night? is everything okay?

Dick: um no, at least not that I know of. Why, what’s wrong?

You: idk. Jason has just been acting weird all day since he got to my place. he barely looks at me without rolling his eyes, he won’t let me touch him or even near him for that matter, and he keeps giving me this childish attitude whenever I try to talk to him.

Dick: lol

You: lol?! why are you loling me? you think this is funny?!

Dick: quite actually. I think I know what’s wrong though. Last night when we were out on patrol, Jason was acting the same way. Apparently, he kept trying to call you since according to him, he’d rather listen to your snoring than our annoying voices over the comms but you weren’t answering.

You: OMG I was studying for a final and I told him I was leaving my phone on Do Not Disturb so I could concentrate.

Dick: you didn’t put him as an exception?

You: … you can do that?

Dick: yes. you can. how did you not know that?

You: IDK! shut up!

Dick: lol

While you were typing out another response to the annoying Nightwing vigilante, you heard the sounds of heavy footsteps making their way from your bedroom to the living room.

You looked up to see your mammoth-sized boyfriend still wrapped in your blanket to where you could only see his face and hair sticking out from the top and his feet poking from under. The stank look on his face was still there even as he walked forward to stand in front of you.

There was a creeping urge to laugh that you tried to resist while staring at your big, scary, and sometimes morally questionable vigilante boyfriend wrapped in a large fluffy red and white blanket with his bed-head curls lying over his forehead while staring at you like an angry child who was told no to getting a cookie from the jar before dinner.

“Are you finally ready to talk to me?”

He didn’t say anything before he just leaned down, opening the blanket so he could pick you up in his arms before walking back to your room and jumping on the bed with his body on top of you. Your breath had been knocked out of you from your impact on the mattress along with Jason’s heavy weight on top of you.

“Ugh, seriously Jay. You’ve got too much muscle on you to be jumping on top of me like that.” You groaned.

You heard an indignant huff from him as he looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “Are you calling me fat?” He finally spoke with his gruff voice.

It was once again your turn to roll your eyes, “Oh, don’t you start with me,” You replied before using your fingers to flick his forehead, his eyes narrowing at you in response.

“Are you seriously mad at me because I didn’t answer your calls last night? I told you I was studying for a final.” You said while now using the same hand to rub your hand through his hair.

“Why is my number not on the exception list on your Do Not Disturb in your phone?” He countered, completely ignoring your question.

“Oh my god, I didn’t even know you could do that. My parents aren’t even on that list.”

“Ok, and?” He said, shaking his head at you like that was supposed to mean something.

“When did you get so freaking sassy?”

“Give me your phone,” Jason ordered, not even waiting for you to move before he grabbed your phone out of your other hand. It was hard for you to move with his body still on top of you, plus his weight and body heat added with the warmth from the blanket tired you faster the more you wiggle around.

He placed the phone in front of your face to unlock it before going to your settings, “Why were you texting Dickface?” He asked.

“Because you wouldn’t tell me what was wrong with you so I asked him.” He just let out a gruff hum before opening the Do Not Disturb section in your settings, going to the panel you’d never seen before where you could add contacts in the phone’s feature so they could still call you or text you without being sent to voicemail or silence.

You watched as Jason added his contact in there, before also adding your parents.

“Seriously, you added my dads?”

“Yep. It’ll score me more brownie points at the next family dinner at your place.” He said with a sneaky smile, before putting your phone down and placing his chin on your chest to stare at you.

“Are you happy now?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not yet. Promise me you’ll always answer my calls and texts. I don’t care if you’re studying, in the shower, or sleeping. It helps me feel better knowing you’re okay.” Jason said, holding his pinky out for a promise.

“Who died and made you boss?” You joked before yelping out in pain when Jason pinched the side of your butt.

“Ow! Fine, I promise.” You agreed, closing your pinky around his to which he smiled before patting the stinging area of your skin he just pinched.

“Good boy.”

“Alright. Are you done having an attitude now?” You inquired, wanting to go back to cuddling and watching your show.

“Almost. Gimme food and I’ll think about it.” He ordered, before laying his head down on your chest.

Your lips pulled up into an annoyed, but playful smile as you grabbed your phone to call your and Jason’s favorite pizza place, “When did you get so freaking sassy?”

“Always have been, babe.”

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[cameronspecial]

I Don't Share My Candy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Drug and Alcohol Use, Sexual Content (Not smut but some sexual tension that is let out) and Mention of Sex.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: Rafe doesn't want to define their relationship, so Y/N decides to take matters into her own hands.

A/N: This idea came to me thanks to this Instagram post.

Masterlist

Being in a situationship with Rafe Cameron is just about the most frustrating thing that Y/N Y/L/N has ever done. And that says something because she works part-time at a daycare during the semester. Although, she could equate Rafe to a toddler. He doesn’t understand the meaning of the word no. He doesn’t like to share, but he expects other people to share their things with him. He doesn’t do a great job of hiding his emotions. He is clingy, only in secret when it is just the two of him cuddled under the sheets. He isn’t like most hookups Y/N has had. Once they finish their passionate activities, he wants to stay in bed and cuddle. He wants to make her a bath for aftercare and talk about their day. He wants to act like they are just an ordinary couple who just finished a night of lovemaking. He liked to consider them exclusive. The catch is that he only acted that way in the privacy of one of their bedrooms. It doesn’t even extend to the rest of their houses. Y/N wouldn’t find herself being cuddled on a couch in a living room with Rafe because, according to him, it is a hard no. 

This is why she finds herself watching as Rafe lets a blonde grind her ass into his clothed cock. He didn’t even give a glance in her direction. Seeing him with other girls always makes Y/N wonder if he was the same way with all of his one-night stands. Does he like to cuddle them? Does he run them a bath and ask them what their favourite part of the day is? Y/N couldn’t stand to watch the scene anymore, so she left the party with a shake of her head. She wouldn’t let him keep playing this game of tug of war on what to label themselves. And she has a plan to get him to pull the trigger on admitting who they are to each other. 

——

YN sits at her vanity getting ready with the help of her friends. As she does her makeup, Mable is giving volume to her curtain bangs to emulate the 70s style she is trying to achieve in her outfit. She found a brown patterned silk scarf shirt at the thrift shop, which she pairs with a black jean skirt and brown knee-high heeled boots. Everyone finished getting ready and it was time to add the finishing touches to their outfit that Y/N had bought thanks to TikTok. She hands out a candy necklace to each of her friends, putting on her own after everyone has received theirs. They head out to the nightclub with the goal of having the least amount of candies on their necklace and whoever does will be declared the winner. 

When Y/N had thought up which friends to ask out, she had made sure they were mostly her friends who loved to document every little thing they did on social media and who Rafe was following. With a drink in hand, she laughs as the tattooed brunet leans down towards her neck to eat one of the candies. She watches as Clara documents the whole scene on her phone. Y/N made sure to lean her face towards the camera, so it was clear it was her. The man pulls away and gives her a smirk as he walks away. Out of the corner of her eyes, she catches a glance at Clara’s phone. She is posting the video to her story on Instagram, making sure to tag Y/N. 

——

Rafe sits on the balcony with beer in hand and a joint resting on an ashtray on the coffee. He is skipping through people’s stories on Instagram when one particular one attracts his attention. He leans closer to his phone to make sure it is really her and the tag confirms who it really is. He observes the unknown person bring his lips down to her neck and Rafe feels his blood boil. Instead of placing a kiss in a place only Rafe’s lips should be close to, the boy’s teeth bite into a candy attached to the elastic necklace. Rafe rewatches the video over and over again, examining the look of joy on Y/N’s face. She shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as she is. She should only want him near her neck in that sense. On his fifth time watching it, Rafe notices the caption to the events going on: The girl with the least amount of candy wins and it looks like Y/L/N is playing to win. Without another thought, Rafe puts out his blunt and gets his car keys, glad that he had just started his relaxation so he only had one puff and sip of the possible impairments. 

——

Rafe finds his target dancing on the dance floor with a man behind her. The blue-haired man holds her swaying hips and his lips are near her neck. Rafe can feel the heat reach his neck. He quickly pulls the man away from her, ignoring the yip the man lets out. Y/N turns at the loss of the man’s hands on her hips and glows at the sight of Rafe. The angry look on Rafe’s face doesn’t deter her and she lets him drag her to the back of the club, out of sight of other people. The music dampens in the back of the club. Rafe gently slams her back into the wall and he leans his hand above her head. “Now, what game do you think you are playing at, little fox?” Rafe’s anger converts into a smirk as he lustfully looks down at her.  

“I don’t know what you are talking about?” 

“Ha, don’t play innocent with me. Why are you letting men’s lips near your neck?”

“Just playing a little game, Rafe. I wanna win.”

“Well, if you wanted to win, little fox, then you should’ve called me.” Each word is broken apart with a kiss as he makes his way down her neck towards the necklace. She feels him start to nibble one of the candies like the other men, but unlike the others the sudden feeling of him using his tongue to bring the candy into his mouth causes her to jump. He chuckles at her surprise and makes sure a little more tongue is used to get the next candy. 

“You’re only supposed to eat one. That’s how the game w… wor…works.” 

She is having a hard time thinking with the feeling of his hot breath on her neck. He takes another candy into his mouth, but when one of the pieces falls onto her breast, she feels her breath hitch as she watches Rafe lean his head down to eat the candy. He places a kiss on the place the candy once was, then licks his way back up to her necklace to continue his destruction of it. “I’m changing the rules. I don’t share my candy.”

[aestheticaltcow]

Cooking Class

Part of the Six Months universe.

Teaching a cooking class at The Bear, what could go wrong?

The Bear Masterlist

“Nat- you should’ve texted me bout this before planning it all out.” Carmy groaned as Natalie shot him an apologetic smile.

 “Mom brain?” she said, forcing a laugh to follow. She sighed before continuing, “Carmen, it’s one night. It won’t kill you. I guarantee Y/N and Mia will be fine.” 

Carmy rolled his eyes at her and asked if he could use Mia as an excuse to escape this. Natalie shook her head and offered to watch her whenever he wanted. Feeling torn between his responsibilities and his family, Carmy reluctantly agreed to teach a cooking class at The Bear the following night. As he pulled his phone out of his pocket, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing at the thought of having to teach some auction-winning d-bag how to make a signature dish from The Bear’s menu. All he wanted was to go home and snuggle with his girls. He shot you a text ranting about the new commitment before staring at his phone screen, waiting for your response. You disliked the message and sent him a picture of Mia playing in the sand at the park. 

Don’t worry Carm, we’ll survive without ya xo.

He rolled his eyes and pushed his phone back into his pocket before walking back into the kitchen from the office. He watched Syd assign different line cooks to different sections to best utilize their skills. He playfully bumped into her, earning a smack to the shoulder and an annoyed groan, “Paul got us really good seats for the Blackhawks game-” she started to explain only for Carmy to cut her off. He squinted at her, “You don’t like hockey. You could do this class.”

Syd rolled her eyes and ignored the judgment from her coworker-turned-best friend: “I like Paul, though. You watched all the Top Gun movies for Y/N. Love makes you do stuff you hate, Berzatto.” 

That night, Carmy walked through the front door to hear loud squeals echoing through the house. He shook his head and chuckled at the sounds of splashing and your poor impression of an elephant. As he walked down the hallway, his heart skipped a beat as Mia’s laughter became more apparent. Carmy peered into the bathroom and saw Mia sitting in the bathtub with a shampoo mohawk. He laughed and stepped into the room. You looked up at him with a cheery smile, “Hi, Daddy.” you greeted as Carmy slowly sat beside you. He kissed your cheek before turning his attention to the happy-as-a-clam toddler eagerly reaching toward him. “Woah there, princess. Let Mommy finish washing your hair first.” he explained as she shook her head, squealing, “Dada home! Dada home!”

You laughed at the interaction and allowed Mia to attempt to get out of the tub. Thankfully, she was still too little to do alone. Mia glared at the tub's edge, making you and Carmy laugh as she plopped back into the water. She refused to let you finish giving her the nightly bath she typically loved, “Mia, my princess, you can snuggle with Daddy as soon as I wash your hair, okay?” you explained as Mia’s bottom lip quivered. “I can do it, baby.” Carmy offered; he took over before you could accept his offer. You shook your head as you watched Mia happily comply. She already had that man wrapped around her little finger, and you couldn’t help but shake your head, “I’m gonna get her pjs ready.” you smiled and squeezed his shoulder with your still-damp hands.

~

“Please don’t take my sunshine away…” Carmy softly sang as he rocked an almost asleep Mia in his arms. You watched as he slowly set her into her crib before placing her favorite lovie beside her. He ran his thumb against her cheek and whispered, “I love you,” one last time before turning his attention to you. You bit your bottom lip, attempting to suppress the giggles that threatened to spill from your lips. His cerulean eyes looked you up and down as he reached toward your hips. You managed to escape his grip and scamper into the hallway. 

“Where ya goin’, baby?” Carmy teased as you stepped over the threshold of your bedroom. You thought you’d escaped him but squealed when you felt his arms wrap around your waist. Carmy pulled you closer to him and buried his face in the crook of your neck. As he mumbled something you couldn’t hear, you placed your hands on his. You stepped forward, pulling him with you, “Are you smellin’ me?” your question went unanswered as Carmy’s hands squeezed your stomach. 

Carmy let go of your waist, and you face planted onto the mattress. When the weight of the mattress shifted, you rolled onto your side to stare at Carmy. He grinned, “I really don’t want to do that cooking lesson tomorrow night.” 

~

“Hey Carmy, rich assholes are here for the cookin’ lesson,” Richie said as he walked into the kitchen. The restaurant closed after an uneventful lunch service, so Carmy and Richie could clean up and prep for the lesson. “What’re you teachin’ them?” Richie asked, pulling his suit jacket off. Carmy washed his hands one last time and quickly answered that they would make a simple risotto. Richie nodded, “I’ll be in the office if you need anything.”

“Hello, everyone,” Carmy introduced, looking around the front of the restaurant to see what he presumed to be two couples. One was a woman with dark brown hair in a modest emerald green dress around his age who introduced herself as Vanessa. With her was a slightly older man with salt and pepper hair and a trimmed beard who’d introduced himself as Nico. The other was an older, presumed married couple around Donna’s age. The woman smiled brightly and practically shook in her boots to get into the kitchen. She introduced herself as Pearl and her husband, Ernie. He seemed less excited to be there, but Carmy grinned when he noticed Pearl squeeze his hand excitedly. “I’m Chef Carmen, welcome to The Bear. I think you were promised Chef Sydney. I’m by no means as entertaining as her, but I promise you’ll learn a lot about one of our signature dishes here at The Bear.” he took a breath and looked around the room to see the woman biting her lip. Carmy rolled his shoulders back, “Risotto was one of the first dishes Chef Sydney wanted on the menu, and after a couple revisions, we now have our signature risotto alla milanese with slow-roasted seasonal vegetables and beef tenderloin… any questions before we get started?” 

As Carmy walked the group through the cooking process, he couldn’t help but notice Vanessa’s lingering glances. He tried to avoid her as he explained knife technique to the others, but when she brushed against his hip for the third time, Carmy started to pick up on her intentions. “Nessie, can you hand me the onion, sweetheart?” Nico asked, not noticing how close she was to Carmy. Vanessa rolled her eyes and obliged the request.

“So, Chef Carmen, how long have you been a chef?” Pearl asked as she stirred beef stock into her risotto. “Uh, professionally, about 15 years, but it’s always been my thing, I guess,” Carmy answered as he grated garlic for her. Pearl smiled and thanked him before verging into more personal questions. Ernie sighed and apologized for his wife. Carmy chuckled, “Don’t worry, Ernie, mine does the same thing.” 

“You’re married?” Vanessa questioned as she stepped around Nico to be closer to him. Carmy nodded, “Happily married for seven years now.” Pearl gushed at Carmy’s response and started asking about you. Ernie chuckled as he shook his head. “Pearlie, you don’t have to ask every question that pops in that head of yours.” Pearl playfully hit her husband’s chest in response, “It’s not my fault Chef Carmen here reminds me of Robbie- Robbie is my youngest. About your age, he’s in the Navy.” 

The lesson was uneventful, subtracting Vanessa’s obvious flirtation. Carmy was confused about why Nico hadn’t said anything to her. If you were hitting on another man in front of him, he’d say something. Why wasn’t Nico? Carmy pushed the thought out of his head and said his goodbyes to everyone as he walked them through the dining area. As he held the door open, Pearl said thank you one last time, and Ernie practically had to drag her out of the restaurant. Carmy chuckled and invited her back anytime she pleased. Nico had his eyes on his phone as he flashed Carmy a grin before hurrying out of the restaurant. Vanessa, on the other hand, lingered. She looked up at Carmy with big doe eyes fawning a false innocence. Carmy softly swallowed, “Can I come whenever I want?” her voice was low as she looked up at him longingly. Carmy shook his head, “That’s not a good idea.” 

Vanessa rolled her eyes and ran a finger down Carmy’s chest, “Too bad�� I want to get you out of that apron sometime.” Carmy awkwardly chuckled in response. She shot him a wink as she walked out of the restaurant toward Nico, who had been holding the passenger side door of their car open for her. He looked Carmy up and down before walking around the car to the driver’s side. 

Carmy locked the restaurant's front door and went back into the kitchen; Richie emerged from the office. “The lesson go okay?” he asked, slipping his phone into his pocket. Carmy shrugged, “Yo, could you clean this up?”

Richie rolled his eyes, “Sure…you okay?” Carmy nodded and went to the lockers, removing his apron as he walked. Richie watched him; something happened, but he was too tired to deal with Carmy’s bullshit. Carmy quickly pulled his backpack and jacket out of his locker before changing his shoes and running out of the kitchen. Richie watched and wondered what was going on in that kid’s head before he started scrubbing the counters.

~

It was almost midnight when Carmy got home. You were in the bathroom brushing your teeth when he came through the bedroom door. “Yo baby, can we talk about somethin?” Carmy asked from the doorframe. You spat in the sink before turning the water on to rinse your mouth and toothbrush. “Everything okay, Carmen?” you asked as you stepped toward him. The look on his face made alarm bells go off in your head, “What did you do?” 

Carmy watched as you crossed your arms over your chest, and he stepped away from the doorframe to allow you to exit the bathroom. You glared at him as he flexed his hands at his sides, “I didn’t do anything- I promise, nothing happened, but at that cooking class, this girl was just… aggressive? She was there with her husband but was very blatantly hitting on me.” he started to explain. Carmy couldn’t look at you while he explained what had happened, “I uh- I didn’t know how to shut it down, I guess. I didn’t do anything with her, and I absolutely won’t because I love you, and I can’t lose you again.” He took a shallow breath and looked up at you. You frowned and let your arms fall before closing the distance between you.

“Carmy. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay.” you said as you reached up to rub his bicep. Carmy released his breath and limply wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against his body, “I love you, baby.”

[wcbblife]

Paige as a girl/boy mom HCs! (pt 2)

a/n: hope you enjoy bc this has taken over my mind completely.

Boy mom:

If he ever goes into basketball, she'll coach his little league team and the resemblance between them is uncanny. They're both competitive and when he makes a shot, she'll do those small celebrations (y'know what I mean. Like those she does in games when she's at the bench).

She's a sucker for his toothy grin. Especially if he has some missing teeth when he's a toddler. I think they would remind her of her brother when he was little so much.

In the mornings she has to wake up at the crack of dawn for practices or games, you swear he has a superpower because he always wakes up early too. Those are some of your favorite times because those slow mornings are unusual with such an energetic toddler. He’ll just follow her around and once she’s done with the basics, she’ll pick him up and do the rest of her things with him sleeping on her shoulder.

They would 100% plan one of those cheesy birthday surprises for you. Like they’ll turn on the lights and scream with matching grins while breaking into a birthday song simultaneously.

Your favorite sight is them both waking up with equally tousled hair and matching sleepy faces. I mean he may be your kid, but Paige is literally in every single crevice of his face.

He constantly challenges her by telling her that he’ll finally beat her in video games, but he never can. She does share with you that she’s worried he finally will one day because he’s a fast learner. But it's almost a tradition for them to sit down at least once a week and battle it out.

He also always challenges her to do different celebrations whenever she scores. And he’s always glued to the screen to see her pull it off. It’s a way for them to stay connected while she has games far away. They ask her about it, but she always stays quiet, wanting the tradition to be a secret of theirs.

She looooves to see him wear her jersey. It gives her the motivation to absolutely destroy whoever she’s going against.

You find it funny that he always copies her face whenever she has a tough finish in a game. Like they both have the exact same celebration face (that face scrunch she does as well as screaming towards the air while flexing). Again. Literal twins.

I get the feeling she will just… hold him up by his leg while they’re playing. Then just show him to you like he's a trophy while he dies of laughter.

Both have the same sleeping stance and sleeping face. Mouth opened with an arm and leg slung haphazardly around. She never believes you until you take a pic of them both sleeping one afternoon.

She calls you guys when she’s away and he’ll just snatch the phone to talk to her. They’re usually late after a game.

“Hey… Isn’t it your bedtime?” Paige's voice comes through the phone, tired. “But mom, I just missed you so much! The game was so close I just couldn't go to sleep” You see her smile through the call, “Alright bud, I'll give you this one.” After you three talk some more, they both fall asleep mid conversation, and you could only smile.

Girl mom:

Talking about games, her favorite thing to do after her games is bury her daughter in kisses and watch the way she shies away because they tickle. She’ll be locked in at the end just looking at her and you and she’ll break into the widest smile once you two come walking towards her.

She would 100% be one of those players that does her press conferences with her kid in her lap. Sometimes she’ll be too distracted by her, and her coach will silently ask you to take her for a bit but there's no separating those two. You also would never think of taking her away because Paige literally lives for you and her baby girl.

I think Paige loved to give her baby those early stages baths. She would be so gentle and lowkey scared as she cradles her and passes moist wipes all over her tiny body. It lowkey calmed her down after a hard day to see her girl so calm and peaceful.

Would tease her baby girl by acting like she’s not going to pick her up cuz she gets super fussy about it. She folds way too quickly though.

Has her camera FULL to the brim with pictures of her sleeping and looking adorable. Definitely has 0.5s of her too. Makes her laugh wayyyy too much.

Does that thing where she taps her daughter's mouth really fast while she shouts so that it sounds really funny. If you get what I mean?? It makes them both laugh way too much.

Omg she definitely dances with her by making her step on the top of her shoes. After so many of her birthday parties with music it's basically a tradition for them to do now. It is your absolute favorite thing in the world because Paige is just so tall.

Paige never failed to give you a heart attack when she was still a baby. I feel like she would make a makeshift baby carrier with her morning robe and just walk around with her while the baby snoozed.

At the beginning, Paige used to wear bright blue or pink or just neon colors so that her daughter was able to recognize her in court.

Tea parties happen a lot with those two. You’ll open the door to find them sipping on the non-existent liquid while faking some funny accents. They’ll just turn to you with a look of “Can we help you?”

[jasperhaleobsessed]

Hey, I feel kinda weird asking for another fic since I already asked, but can you please do Jasper Hale x reader where reader is the “backup friend.” Where basically her friends only hang out with her, talk to her, etc when there is no one else to talk to. Reader’s mom (who she’s really close to) starts getting really busy with the reader’s younger siblings and so reader gets less attention/gets ignored. The only time reader gets attention from anyone is either when they need her or no one else is available. Reader is hanging out with the Cullens’ and gets a call from her mom telling her to watch her younger sibling even though reader is out with friends and reader’s other younger sibling is home and free to watch the toddler. She just accepts it, but Jasper gets kinda upset that she just accepted it since he could feel her disappointment and she bursts out crying. Jasper lets her know that she doesn’t deserve to be treated that way and maybe cuddles and forehead kisses ensue?

Your only human

Jasper Hale x Female reader

Summary: The reader is having a hard time and Jasper comforts her.

Notes: Hope you like it and I know this wasn't exactly what you may have wanted but nevertheless still hope you enjoy it! :) Also sorry for taking such a long time!

Warnings: Some angst but a happy ending as usual!

Wordcount: 700

(Edit: I forgot to add a gif oops 😬)

Your POV

Laughter filled the room as always Emmett made a terrible joke. You secretly enjoyed his jokes. Even Roselie cracked a smile which was a shock. Jasper had his arm around your shoulder and he hugged you close. Warmth filled your cheeks and your chest tightened. You smiled happily especially after Esme came out of the kitchen and presented you with a freshly baked warm chocolate cookie. You smiled gratefully. 

Then you lost, “Oh come on!” You murmured and jokingly gave Carlisle a stink eye. 

“Sorry.” he smiled apologetically. 

“Oh it’s alright.” You smiled warmly. 

“Yes!” Emmett exclaimed. You turned your head in his direction and looked at him confused. 

“Hand it over Alice!” He held out his hand. Alice gave him the puppy dog face but handed the money out anyway.

 “You bet on me?” 

“Yup!” Emmett said enthusiastically.

“How did you win against Alice doesn’t she see the future and all?” Emmett shrugged his shoulders and Alice answered with, “I guess it was a last minute decision.” Roselie rolled her eyes at Emmetts antics. 

“Okay.” You said slowly. You turned back to the game and watched as the rest of the Cullen’s played against each other. 

“Can you believe them?” You laughed. 

“Surprisingly I can.” Jasper laughed as he interlocked his hand into yours. 

Edward won and Alice was close to winning too. It had been a fun night and you enjoyed every bit of it. You enjoyed being wrapped up in Jasper’s arms and you enjoyed laughing and giggling with the Cullen family that was until your mom called. 

Your phone buzzed, you pulled it out of your back pocket and you read the following text: Hi honey I need you to watch your little sibling tonight! 

Your brows furrowed and you responded with: 

You

But I can’t I’m at the Cullen’s right now 

Your mom

Well I’m sorry but your gonna have to 

You 

Why can’t my other capable older sibling do it??

Your mom 

Because they are busy. 

You 

But I’m busy too!

Your mom

You're the eldest, it's part of your job!

…

You sighed and rubbed your temples as you powered off your phone. You pushed it back into your pocket. 

“What's wrong?”

You turned to look at him and for a moment you had no idea what to do or what to tell him. 

“Uh, my mom needs me to babysit my little sibling.” You said as you went to grab your backpack and get your stuff ready to go. 

“Don’t you have another sibling who's old enough to take care of your younger one?” Jasper asked. 

“Yeah but apparently they can't and I’m the only one who can.” Jasper put his hand on your shoulder and rubbed it soothingly.

“You're working yourself too much, I can feel it.” He caressed your face. 

“I know but no one else can and I have to. I don’t want to but she's relying on me and I can’t go and say no even if I feel exhausted and overworked because she's always working and has no time for her kids anymore. I can't just say no because she needs help and has no time because she’s trying to support her. But as much as I love my siblings I can’t do this. I'm not good at juggling all of this.” You felt your breath hitch and tears sting your eyes. You collapsed in his arms. He listened calmly to your rant.

And rubbed your hair soothingly. “Shhh it’s okay darlin’.” Your body trembled as he sent calming waves to you.

You couldn’t help but hug him tighter. “I’m sorry.” You murmured. 

He pulled you away and cupped your face, “You have no reason to be sorry. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed and exhausted, that's normal. Your only human darlin’.” You gave him a small smile and your tears continued to pour down your face as he whipped them away. 

He calmed you again and you took a deep breath just as he did. “Feel better?” You smiled and hugged him tightly. 

“Would you like me to come with you and help you so you don’t feel as overwhelmed?” 

“Yes!” You felt relieved. 

You turned to the rest of the Cullens and said, “Sorry for crying on ya.” Esme looked at you sympathetically, "Don’t worry dear you're completely fine.” She got up from the sofa and hugged you. Alice jumped up from her seat and you and Esme turned to her. 

“Don’t ever apologize! It’s okay!” She smiled warmly. You always thought her smiles were contagious. She smiled back at her warmly. The other Cullen’s agreed. Jasper took your hand as he led you to your house and you both smiled as you headed there. 

The End. 

[celestie0]

kickoff! reader who is stalking gojos page and accidentally likes one of his oldest posts. she panics and turns off her phone, without unliking it.

kickoff!gojo who is re reading your guys instagram messages and you text him while he’s doing this. he scrambles to come up with a reason as to why he read your message instantly

kickoff! reader who tries to watch soccer games to understand what’s happening. she probably yells offsides at everything. gojo can only smile at her and offer to help her out

kickoff! gojo who takes a picture of your silhouette in front of those statues you meet up at during the sunset (without your knowledge) and makes it his lock screen. you ask him about it but he just pretends that it’s a soccer goal and the sunset behind it.

kickoff! reader who finds herself thinking of satoru way too much. will see basically anything and be reminded of him. “oh a pair of sunglasses? gojo would like those” “hm, they started selling a strawberry tea? gojo would drink that”

kickoff! gojo who loves the sims. unironically makes a sim version of him and reader. tbh he probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he just starts thinking about reader and starts adding her features. thinks it’s funny to make them have “fun time”

kickoff! reader who is looking through the game pictures she takes and finds herself staring at gojo. doesn’t even realize she’s doing it until mina walks in on her. think peter parker and gwen stacy

kickoff!gojo who has a full “project m’bappe” for your future kids. starts the kids off with a soccer plush and it leads to them being absolute powerhouses in toddler leagues

kickoff! reader who used to play soccer as a kid. threw a tantrum in the middle of a game because she decided she hated it. only started to like it again because of gojo

kickoff! gojo who keeps a printed out picture of the two of you in his wallet. Suguru took it at the frat party when gojo kissed you. around you is blurry and flashing lights, in the middle of the chaos is gojos lips pressed against yours. His hand is holding your waist, you’re slightly on your tippy toes to reach him. He sometimes zones off when paying because the picture catches his eye

BABE……..WHEN I TELL YOU IM BLUSHING N SQUEALING N KICKING MY FEET SM RN…..UHHH I THINK U MIGHT HAVE TO JUST TAKE OVER WRITING THE SERIES FOR ME??? bc i went thru sm emotions reading these pls 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

ok first of all tysm for thinking of these and sending them to me???? i genuinely cannot believe youve made headcanons for my fic that’s so surreal n i will forever remember this 😭😭

BUT ALSO THESE ARE SO ACCURATE PLS and all the little details omg it means sm that youve noticed all these lil thinfs throughout the fic n their relationship n i cld cry rn 😭😭

pls excuse me for addressing each n every one of these bc im so excited by them i fear this ask will be long so i’m adding a keep reading loool

sobsosbsosbsbsossbb the headcanons ab their digital fuckups LMAOO omg reader is 100% the type to be stalking him at 3am even tho she swears shes not even THAT down bad for him n then she loses all feeling in her face when she realizes she liked a post from when he was like in high school or sumn🧍🏻‍♀️there’s no coming back from that LMFAOO but i feel like gojo wldnt even notice it bc he probs gets a lot of notifs so she’s safe this time around 😭😭 BUT YOURE ALSO SO RIGHT AB HIM REREADING MESSAGES N THEN GETTING SPOOKED WHEN HE REALIZES SHE SAW THAT HE READ IT RIGHT AWAY LMAO i feel like he’d pull something like “uhhhh i was just about to trxt you, that’s why” and she’s like “🤨 this is the fifth time that’s allegedly happened”

aww reader trying to understand soccer for him 😭 thats so cute bahah also i made another headcanon recently from another anon who mentioned gojo streaming the world cup hehe it’d be so cute if reader shows up to the frat game nights in the jersey of the team that gojo’s rooting for bc she’s just trying to be a supportive girlfriend n she gets excited watching the game but she’s actually got no clue what tf is going on 💀 but gojo adores her for it so thats ok

the lockscreeennn that’s so cute 😭 also i love the idea of reader being his muse too :”) like he doesn’t know much about photography but bc of her he’s like kinda curious about it now so he’s always taking pictures of her w his phone while she’s not looking :”) i imagine his camera roll is just a bunch of candids of her while she’s dissociating off into the distance or something 🤣 n he’s like “wow so pretty im so good at this”

OK BUT READER IS ME THINKING AB GOJO EVERYWHERE I GO LMAOO no but srs that one made heart skip a beat bc how sweeettt is that 😭 i think that is a true mark of love where u think of someone everywhere you go :”) for gojo, i imagine that anytime he sees anything scenic or colorful or something like blooms of flowers or a nice sky he thinks of how she wld probably really love to take pics of it n he gets sad she’s not there to do so

okk im down for sims boyfriend gojo 🤣 and wdym by fun time omg 😭 pls dont tell me it’s possible to make people BONK on sims. ive seen a lot of tiktoks recently about how they added gojo to stardew valley n ppl have been marrying him lmfaoo i wonder if gojo wld try to marry her in sims 💀 cant tell if thats cute or creepy PLS tbh i’d probs be like “aww babe”🧍🏻‍♀️

and YES AB THE ONE WHERE SHE STARES AT GOJO’s PICS THATS PRACTICALLY CANON, also, there was supposed to be a scene exactly like that in ch8 where mina walks in on her staring at the pics she was editing for her professor 😭😭 so ur 100% right on. i just bet he looks so handsome in those photos cuz he’s concentrated n sweaty n probs looks really determined n in his element tbf i’d be starinf at those pics too LOL

YOURE SO RIGHT HAHA he’d make sure their kids are soccer prodigies 😭😭 startin them YOUNG. reader’s like “dont u think they’ve practiced enough today…they’re supposed to go to that birthday party at noon” and he’s like “THE GRIND NEVER STOPS😤🔥” 💀💀 unironically the type of dad that wakes his kids up at 5am on summer break to take em to soccer bootcamp or sumn 😭😭 ok but he knows theyre just kids n lets them have fun haha obviously but he just has high expectations for them lmaoo

im so tender to the idea of reader having played soccer in her youuuuthh how cute wld it be if she unknowingly also had a crush on gojo back when they were kids (maybe there was some sort of co-ed game they played ONCE when their elementary schools organized it n she was like omg who’s that boy over theree n it’s just 8 y/o gojo who’s got all the 2nd grade girlies swooning even back then 🤣) but in adulthood she probably doesnt rememebr that at all haha OMGGGG I NEED TO MAKE THIS CANON BC HOW ADORABLE WOULD IT BE IF GOJO’s MOM HAD TAKEN A PICTURE OF THE GAME BACK THEN N U CAN SEE LITTLE GOJO N LITTLE READER ARE IN THE SAME PHOTO im gonna sob???? im so inspired by these rn??? anon??? can i fr hug u through the screen???

omggg ok im deceased im dead ab the PICTURE IN HIS WALLET. THAT IS SO HUSBAND CODED and adorabke asf i just might melt rn 😭 him getting distarcted while paying kakskddjhd also i can imagine him having a picture in his wallet of her in her cap n gown on n stoles n everything during graduation or something bc it reminds him of their college days :”) n when he’s playing away games during national league he’s always looking at it when he’s away from home bc he misses her

also i feel like suguru might’ve taken the photo as a polaroid 🤔 now i headcanon that kickoff reader also has a polaroid camera bc why wouldnt she lmfaoo 🤣 but just imagine the polaroid relationship wall LOL its so corny but i wld want them to make one together 😩💕

screaming. crying. feeling so inspired rn. cheesing. cheeks r hurting. love u sm anon srs if you have more i will gobble them up like a turkey. LOVE YOU <333

[babydollmarauders]

el definitely gets jealous of jack walking in with another kid today before the game like he’ll go to get a hug from her after the game and she’s just like no bad daddy

she definitely does! when she sees the photo on lovie’s phone, she gets all pouty and goes “why i don’t walk with daddy?”

lovie wasn’t quite sure how to explain to her that it was a little kid from the ‘hockey in new jersey’ program, so she just gently told her, “daddy knew mommy needed you to walk in with her! or else mommy would be sad because she would be all alone!” — but el wasn’t having it, “mommy walk with aunt coley!” (jesper’s gf, nicole)

lovie thought that was the end of it. but after the game, she took el to go say goodbye to jack and luke before they left for the roadie, and when jack smiled and tried to take el from his wife so he could hug her goodbye, el turned into lovie with her arms crossed.

“no! bad daddy!” el huffs, making jack’s face fall, a small pout resting upon his lips.

“eleanor elizabeth hughes!” lovie pulls her daughter away from her chest, just enough to see her face; her voice stern yet soft.

“no, no, it’s fine, lovie.” Jack reassures her.

scooping his hands underneath el’s armpits, he takes his daughter from her mother, bringing her close to his chest, despite her squirming and whines.

“el,” he starts, a gentle tone to his deep voice. the nearly two-year-old settles, looking at her father, “i thought we’ve talked about this. daddy has to go and work, but i’ll be back in a week and i’ll be bringing you back a gift, remember?”

“oh, love.” lovie whispers, catching jack’s attention. his blue eyes flicker up to look at his wife, finding her shaking her head.

“what?” he asks, furrowing his brows.

“that’s not what she’s upset about.” she tells him, “she’s jealous because you walked in with another kid. she wants to do your entrance with you.”

“oh,” jack looks down at el in his arms, her angry face staring back at him, “i’m sorry, lovely. i didn’t get to choose who i walked in with today.”

when el doesn’t ease her glare, jack sighs, “how about this, next week, when daddy gets back, he’ll see if you can walk in with him. okay?”

the toddler’s biting stare drops, quickly replaced with a bright smile as she nods at her father, “okay.”

pressing a kiss to her cheek, jack smiles, whispering a short goodbye and reminding his daughter that he loves her before handing her off to her uncle.

as soon as el is safely in luke’s arms, jack is turning back to his wife, pulling her in by a grip on her hips. his hand coming to rest on her swollen stomach, his thumb rubbing softly against it.

“i love you,” he hums, leaning in to capture her lips in a sweet kiss, “text me when you and el get home, okay? i’m gonna miss my girls.”

as he finishes his sentence, jack feels a quick thump against his hand, a chuckle arising from his throat before he speaks again, “and my boy.”

“i will text you as soon as we get in the house.” lovie states, a smile playing upon her lips, “now, if you’ll excuse me, we have a moody girl who needs a nap.”

jack glances over to their daughter, who laughs as her uncle blows raspberries into her stomach, holding her out in front of his face, “she looks pretty happy to me.”

“i was talking about me.”

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 54 (The Game Tried to Take MY SON!)

cw: toddler peril. I learned a lesson about playing with unpatched mods but I played up a bit of drama despite not accepting what happened as canon. Only shot of Ash is above because more felt gratuitous for something that technically never happened because I reversed it.

The quiet house unnerved him. Conrad knew something wasn't right. He texted Heather, and in less than a minute his phone rang. "I'm sorry I didn't text," she sobbed through the phone. "Ash's daycare called and I...I...I'm at the hospital with him now. Doctors have him sedated."

"What happened?!"

"It was daycare," she repeated. "They said he was on the slide but then they looked away and...and they thought..." She broke down, and Conrad felt her pain through the line. Her fear shook the phone in his grasp.

"It'll be okay. I'm on my way there."

He embraced her when he walked through the door to St. Sims Hospital, and she fell into his arms. "He'll be okay," he assured her, but he didn't know any better.

"How did this happen?" she cried. "What kind of mother lets her son-"

"Stop. This isn't on you."

"If I didn't work so much, I could have been home with him. Maybe I could have..."

He pulled her close, feeling every tense muscle in her rigid body. "This isn't on you," he repeated. "And we're not gonna lose him. We'll all get through this together. We're a team, remember? That means Ash, too."

She was quiet. "Conrad... Do you believe in curses?"

"Like witches?"

She frowned as her thoughts pounded against her skull. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe mermaids? But Mortimer Goth told me a story once about cursed Landgraabs, and I know how it sounds. But when Ash came along I thought about it a lot more than I should, and then I had to give him their last name. After tonight, I feel sick to my stomach. What if I cursed my son by giving him Malcolm Landgraab for a father?"

"There's no way Ash is cursed," he said quickly. "I know you're scared for him, but curses aren't real and Ash is one of the luckiest kids in the world. He'll get a Landgraab trust fund and he's got you for a mom."

She managed a smile, but when the doctor emerged from the pediatric care unit, she raced over to hear word of her son. "How is he? Oh, Watcher, please let him be okay..."

Dr. Serra smiled. "He hit his head pretty hard, but other than a headache for a few days, we think he's going to be fine. We want to keep him overnight for observation, but he's awake and he's asking for you."

Heather's whole body breathed with relief as she embraced her son's doctor. "Thank you!" she sobbed. "Thank you so much!"

Behind her, Conrad felt his muscles loosen. He'd been so focused on Heather, he didn't even notice his own fear at the thought of Ash in peril. "Thank you, Doctor. We're so grateful."

Dr. Serra smiled. "You must be Conrad. Ash asked for you, too."

Ash would recover quickly, but Heather wasn't so sure about herself. Even with Conrad's unflinching support, she felt torn apart by guilt over her son's near-fatal accident while she'd been working.

She was always working, trying so hard to earn enough to buy out her clinic from Ash's other family. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

WCIF St. Sims Hospital? Sims 4 Gallery build by @pihe89/pihe89. Stunning build, simply put, and very popular (so many copycats). And it comes with a science lab and alien wormhole nbd. Two floors, so many varieties for rooms. Why would I build when people are this talented? It's in a second save and I'll use it again for babies, but hopefully we're not back here for any tragedies anytime soon.

How did this happen?!? Needless to say, Heather's guilt is also mine. I had too many mods and tested fate playing before updating them all! I played some Ultimate Decades Challenge generations and still have the Children and Toddlers Can Die mod installed (I like having options, I guess?), which only kills toddlers with hunger if I'm not mistaken. I was also having some mod issues after the Lovestruck update and didn't realize it until this happened, but the toddler needs bars stayed in the green while their needs deteriorated and I didn't know. Only the toddlers!

So I followed Conrad to work and when he came home Ash was gone and Heather had the 'lost a child' grief moodlet. Cue my internal scream! I revived him instantly with MCCC because this is not UDC and I have plans for this kid! I was so shocked I didn't take any screenshots of the whole disastrous event, but I couldn't pretend it absolutely didn't happen. And honestly the accident ties in with Heather's nagging fears the curse could be real, which is the one unintended benefit of this whole thing.

[richeeduvie]

Baby coincidentally changing her locks around the same time Roman gets with Tabitha. I remember reading something here once that he just makes himself home at her place even if he is with Tabitha 😭 he has such a hard time being told no and Baby just goes “oh right,, i had to change my locks recently because I uhh lost my keys ??yeah” and he just stares at her like yeah?? Well?? Wheres my duplicate then🤨 and she just sighs 🧍‍♀️

Dog at Your Door

So we do know he's panicking, right?

It's after a slight conflict, Baby's secretly tense and insecure after witnessing Roman's affections towards Tabitha and was in his words "Acting pussy-hungry."

"Eat a cock. Preferably mines, who elses?"

And Roman, in all his fuck-assery and annoying, attention seeking nature, knew that got to Baby. He didn't know why, but it did. His shit-eating smirk faltered a little, barely noticeable to most. He scratched the back of his neck, watched how Baby walked off into the hall with a fucking attitude.

It just didn't help Baby at all to see the way Roman still holds the belief that he's safe in their friendship to have sex and act as if they're joined by their genitals and hearts while playing boyfriend-girlfriend with Tabitha. It isn't fair, not to her or herself - but Roman holds it so tightly that she knows it's genuine. It's not spiteful, as if he's saying "I own your heart, what are you going to do about it?"

It still hurts.

And all those blood-gushing moments of when Baby pretends to be angry or disappointed in Roman to get him small, insecure, and panicked? It's there when she changes the locks. But it's not purposeful. Not fully, at least.

Roman goes over to her place with almost fully forgetting their little stunt in the day. He knows she's not home, but it's routine to make himself home when she's not there. Sometimes he'll jizz on her pillowcase, or play a game on his phone. Sometimes take a nap, even though naps are for people who are about to turn to dust or toddlers.

But the door doesn't budge. The knob barely moves.

"What the fuck?"

And Roman tries again. And again. The vein along his forehead appears, there comes the thinly-pulled lips and the look in his eyes gets more childishly strained.

"What the fuck?"

So does his voice. It'd make Baby smile if she was there.

After the thirteenth door jam, Roman begins to pull at his hair.

"Fuck!"

It's about a hour worth of constant text messages when Baby reached her place.

'why the fuck can't I open the door to the pent'

'hey'

'what the fuck'

'What the actual fuck?'

'literally what did I do? It's an actual different lock too'

'fuck you seriously'

'I didn't know you were that pussy hungry but I didn't do anything and what?'

'What are you trying to say with this?'

'or can you tell me the lock broke or something?'

'hey'

'why can't I open the door?'

"Roman."

It's Baby standing over him in front of the door. He's rested, casually pissed and passive aggressive.

"I lost my other key."

His fingers play nervously with themselves. Baby watches Roman's chest rise and fall, it's even. But she knows him. It's manic. Not a good enough answer for him. He needs complete assurance that she's not going to leave him or filter him out - that and a kiss, an arm wrapped around his stomach while he sleeps.

"Why didn't you just get a new key?"

"That would mean a place where a stranger could have my key to my door. Changing the locks is safer."

He blinks up and scratches his nose.

"...That's fucking stupid. I'm here in like...belief? Belief you want me out and fuck Roman and his tiny, occupied cock that is perfectly available but I won't accept because your womanly ego convinced you someone might pick up your key and think you're worthy enough of a sex crime."

She looks the knob above his head, scratched up. She assumes (and assumes right) that that came from Roman growing increasingly more frantic and kept missing the keyhole when trying to open it over and over.

"You were about to break in. And what? Wait for me naked to pounce on me? Which would be more like begging. I'd reject which would get you huffy and then I would have to rub your chest like you're a fucking baby who had a bad day with Daddy."

Baby unlocked the door over Roman's head.

"If you were the cautionary scenario I was imagining when I was changing the locks, Rome, I'd keep the door wide open. It's all a pathetic, corporate nature."

"...I didn't even say anything."

"Say hi to Tabitha, and tell Shiv tha-"

"I wanna come in."

"Rome."

He steps in, tense and needy and every other word to describe and man stepping a panic, doing what needs to be done to be the center of her love and affection and she can't leave him outside the door.

And Baby knows that, and she's been so lonely that she'll indulge for the sake of herself.

Roman butts his head into her neck nearly-softly, like a cat. He smiles, not in smugness, but relief.

Sometimes a dog and his bone, other times a cat who gets what he wants anyway.

[danielshouseofwhores]

💫Daniel Riccardo x Southern!Reader Headcannons vol.1💫

Reader is from georgia/south (NOT TEXAS,TOO MANY TEXAS FICS)

Daniel is a SLUT for small town diners

He giggles and gossips with Pierre, but not grid gossip, like, 90s school girl gossip

They also send each other snaps over break when Daniel joins reader on a delivery

Daniel.jpg will be full of pictures of the American countryside

But him/reader aren't public so everybody is confused af as to why he’s in the middle of buttfuck-nowhere Kansas

He gets toddler level excited whenever he sees an animal like “oh my god, honey! It’s a mountain goat!!”

Whenever he shaves/gives himself a new style, he always has to get a kiss from reader to make sure she likes it

Gets very pouty when he doesn’t earn the kiss of approval

First time he actually got to visit Texas and not just Austin, he made reader take him to the Alamo

He said “never forget the alamo” every time somebody said something bad against texas afterwards

Insisted that he go out and buy a Trans Am and dress as Bandit for halloween

He tried to get Max to dress as Snowman, but he refused to do the accent and Daniel was sad

Max lost best friend privileges for a month

ASS👏SLAPPER👏

He started to pick up trucker/southern slang, and the reader started to pick up Aussie slang, and together the two of them have made some Bogan/Hick language that nobody else can understand

Will watch the randomest of Netflix shows during a drive

You’ll just hear the weirdest shit coming from his phone

Or he’ll watch “Drive to Survive” and laugh at himself in the interviews

Begged you to instal a gaming console in the sleeper (“Bedroom” of a long range truck)

And we can’t resist those big brown eyes so now he has a playstation

And you will hear him playing “Red Dead Redemption: 2” (thats the single reason he chose PS/Xbox

Will pull the “Save a horse, Ride a cowboy” every chance he gets

And every time he says is, the Reader claps back with “Ride in a rodeo, then I’ll ride the cowboy” (Or smth along those lines)

If you liked this, add yourself to the taglist for more! https://docs.google.com/document/d/1RYtcEOxapB9qoiN_-uzm1Lwvnj16so9PJOPCQ88BjTI/edit?usp=sharing

[heresthestorymorningglory]

Nightmares and Dreamscapes

Summary: It’s still not over…

A/N: My darlings! I am SO sorry this update has taken ages...life got in the way as it does...

As always, this NSFW 18+ should be par for the course at this point. So like….?

My beautiful partner in crime, my enabler, my soul sister @ken-dom without whom this continuation would not have happened….I thank you for your continued support and love and will forever relish in the fact that I’ve dragged you over to the Six side ;)

This is indeed a continuation of what I’ve affectionately titled the Nurse Series, read previous parts  here.

This was meant to be a TWO part series and Six just refuses to rest so here we are.

Enjoy my loves! <3

Weeks had passed and nothing. No Six, no Lloyd, no stop to the horrific nightmares. 

Night after night you screamed yourself and everyone else in the house awake. 

Some nights Becca was working the overnight shift at the hospital and Lars would be the one to come in and check on you, reassure you that it was only a nightmare, a bad dream, and everything was okay. 

Becca had kept him in the dark on purpose, to keep him safe. He would offer to stay with you, until you fell asleep again and the first handful of times when you refused, Lars would insist, 

“It always helped me fall back asleep when someone was there to watch for monsters” he smiled and you couldn't help but smile back. 

Sitting in the small armchair on the opposite side of the room, he would often doze off, snoring softly while you laid awake, hoping today would be the day Court came home. 

On the nights Becca was home, she would sit and listen to you ramble off the horrible things you had dreamt about. Reassuring you that Court would be careful, he'd had you back here waiting, he wouldn't jeopardize that for anything.

“He always calls,” you reasoned, sitting up in bed after the latest nightmare “Why hasn't he called?” 

“Maybe his phone died” She offered half jokingly 

“Becks” you whispered leaning back against the headboard 

“He's been gone longer than this without a call before” her hands collapsed in her lap “Why is this time so different?” 

“Because,” you sighed 

“Because you think he's hiding something from you”

“I know he is” 

“Based on what?” She asked “Help me understand”

“He's just…” you sighed “He's different,”

“Different how?” She pressed “Because from where was standing, it just looked like he didn't want you in danger”

“No Becks, it's more than that,” you leaned to pull open the nightstand drawer, fishing out a piece of paper before handing it to her. 

She unfolded it and you watched her brow furrow. “Tag, you're it?”

“Lloyd left it, for Court that day at the hospital” you explained “Court kept telling me that none of this was my fault.”

“Of course it isn't” she agreed and you shook your head 

“No, I mean, he kept putting emphasis on my fault. Like it's his fault somehow”

“How could it possibly be?”

You let out another heavy sigh. “I think Court lied to me,” you said, finally voicing the thought you'd had for weeks “His golden rule, number one above all else, no compromise, ever. No hospitals”

Becca nodded but stayed silent. 

“For as long as I've known him, since my residency, no hospitals. Ever. So why then?”

“He knew you were in danger” she sighed 

“Exactly, and then this,” you motioned to the note “What the hell does that mean, unless he's been playing this bullshit cat and mouse game with Lloyd all along?” 

Her face fell and she pressed her lips together in a hard line, she didn't have an answer. 

“Maybe wait for him to get back, give him a chance to explain himself before you resign him to cement blocks at the bottom of the river, okay?”

“He lied to me Becks” 

“He also saved your life,” she pointed out “Multiple times, not to mention that man is head over heels in love with you”

You shook your head and she scoffed with a laugh 

“I'm sorry, no? Is that what you're saying?” She looked at you in disbelief “I've had toddlers with more patience. I've never seen someone more worried about someone else than he was about you”

“Then why would he lie?” You asked softly 

“For the same reason I haven't told Lars the truth?” She offered “To keep you safe, keep you from worrying and sending yourself into a tailspin like you're doing now?”

“Lars is different, he doesn't realize what's going on, I do” 

“At least give him a chance to explain”

“Assuming he's not dead already” you muttered 

“Well if he's not and his reasoning wasn't because he's madly in love with you then you can take him out back and duke it out, Lars’ ax is back there” 

You scoffed offering her a tired smile. 

“Deal?”

You nodded “Deal.”

“Good” she smiled, pulling the blankets back “Now, back to bed”

You smiled settling under the blanket and she tucked you in as she stood from the edge of your bed. 

You turned over with a sigh, tucking your arm under your head as Becca made her way to the door. 

“Becks?” 

She turned on her heel “Hmm?” 

“Thanks” 

She waved her hand dismissively before disappearing down to her own bedroom 

***✨✨✨

Another two weeks had passed and still nothing. 

You sat at the breakfast table, a plate of french toast in front of you, untouched, your finger tracing over your tattoo as you were lost in thought. 

“Maybe she just took some to be polite?” Lars whispered, you still completely oblivious to the world around you 

“No darling, she's just…preoccupied”

“Hmm?” You looked up realizing where you were 

Becca smiled with a shake of her head “Nothing love” 

You picked at your plate eating the smallest of bites. 

You had tried to go back to work earlier in the week and had gotten as far as the threshold of the elevator before having a panic attack and going back home. 

You looked up as something caught Becca's attention and then Lars too. 

Turning in your chair you gasped seeing Six standing in the doorway. 

“Oh my god!” You jumped up from your place at the table, sending your chair clattering backwards to the floor. 

You threw yourself at him and he grunted painfully as your legs locked around his middle, wrapping his arms around you so tightly you thought your ribs would break. 

You squeezed back just as hard, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck; kissing every part of him you could reach. 

“I thought you were….I thought Lloyd” 

“Shhh” 

You breathed in his scent as tears streamed down your cheeks. The rest of the world melted away as you leaned back slightly to finally really look at him. 

“What happened to you?” You whispered, your thumb brushing over his bruised cheek. 

He shook his head “It doesn't matter”

You jumped when a chair scraped on the floor behind you and you remembered where you were. 

“We have to get to work,” Becca smiled “But you know where everything is to patch him up”

You nodded, still firmly wrapped around Six's frame 

“Good to see you back in one piece, John” she winked and Six just scoffed with a laugh 

“Bye” you smiled, resting your head on Six's shoulder who winced in pain 

The front door clicked shut and you slid from around his waist, your feet landing on the floor as you gave him the once over. 

“Are you hurt?” You asked, fingers feeling over his flesh, looking for any cuts or bruises. 

“No” he whispered 

You looked up meeting his eye “Are you lying to me?” 

“No,” he repeated with a gentle shake of his head. 

“Did you find him?” You asked and he let out a heavy sigh 

“Can we not?”

“Court…”

“No,” he shook his head “I don't give a fuck about Lloyd right now; you're safe, and that's all that matters”

“But he's still-” 

Six cut you off, claiming your lips in a deep kiss, you sighed against his mouth, leaning into him as his tongue tangled with yours. 

You moaned, letting him pull you closer, melting into his touch. 

He pushed you back against the table, making the breakfast dishes rattle. 

You pushed him back gently with a small laugh.  

“Not here” you shook your head. 

“Where then?” His breath hot against your neck making you shiver as he kissed along the length. 

You turned on your heel, threading your fingers together with his, pulling him towards the stairs. 

His other hand snaked around your waist as he nuzzled into the back of your neck. You giggled tripping up the stairs as he pulled you against him. 

“Court!” You shrieked as you reached the top, only for him to turn you to face him, pushing you against the nearest wall, pinning you there. 

You moaned as he peppered your face and neck with kisses, pulling your pajama top up over your head before dropping it at his feet. You leaned back against the wall as he sank to his knees, kissing a trail over your bare skin. Your fingers twisting in his thick blond hair as his lips pressed against the fresh scar on your stomach, lingering there a beat longer than the others. 

You pushed his hair back and your eyes met his as he looked up at you from under his long lashes. 

He dropped his eyes, focusing on his task, fingers curling under the waistband of your pajama shorts, tugging them off gently and you stepped out of them. 

Six got back to his feet and you whimpered in protest. 

He shushed you immediately, pulling you against him, before pushing you back toward the room you had made yours. 

You fell back on the mattress, pulling Six with you. 

He caught himself to keep from crushing you before picking up where he had left off. 

Six put himself between your legs, his warm hand gliding slowly up the length of your leg as it bent at the knee. 

You hummed with want as his nose slid up over your bent knee and he kissed along the inside of your thigh. 

Your fingers rethreaded through his hair as he moved closer to your core, his hands pushing your knees apart, making room for his broad shoulders as his fingers hooked around the waist of your panties, you lifted your hips as he tugged them off and tossed them over the edge of the bed. 

He kissed along the inside of your other thigh, making you whimper and tug a little harder on his hair, making him moan between your legs. 

You gasped, arching your back as his tongue licked between your folds, you thrust forward making him moan against your core. 

“God, Court” you moaned to the ceiling as his tongue moved skillfully 

Releasing his hair, your hands slid over his shoulders, pulling him to you. 

His weight was heavy on top of you as his lips met yours. You pulled his shirt up as far as you could manage before he pulled it off the rest of the way before he kicked off his pants. 

You dragged your fingers over his bare chest; old scars marked with fresh cuts. He brushed a chunk of hair off your face; his cock pressed hard against your thigh. 

“Make love to me” you whispered, cupping his cheek. 

He didn't need to be asked twice, he closed the gap between you, his tongue pushing between your lips, you met it with your own, moaning against his mouth. 

He eased himself inside you and you wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck as you moved together slowly on the bed. 

Your moans mingled together as he pulled back, moving to kiss the length of your neck, sucking none too gently on your collarbone, leaving a bright red hickey in his wake. 

You moaned as his teeth dragged over your overheated skin. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces as Six's hips moved with a rhythm, making you moan with each thrust. 

“I love you,” Six breathed against the shell of your ear, making you cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as you whimpered into his neck. 

“I love you too” you whispered “God Court, I love you so much” 

He moaned, thrusting harder, the bed frame creaking under your shifting weight. 

“Again” he whispered 

“I love you” you breathed, fingernails biting into the flesh of his shoulders. 

All at once you were filled with his release, your own orgasm tearing through your body. He crushed his lips against yours, soft and commanding as he slid from inside you, he pulled you against him, moving to lay where you had been; his arms protectively around you. 

Your fingers teased his bare flesh as you laid on his chest, his heart beating steadily in your ear. 

He brought your tattooed finger to his lips, kissing it gently before he collapsed his hand on top of yours, resting on his chest. 

“We're gonna have to talk about it eventually y'know” you spoke quietly 

He let out a heavy sigh but stayed silent. 

“Court, please” you pleaded “I've been going crazy for weeks”

He squeezed you gently with another sigh before he spoke. 

“Not now, alright?” 

“If not now then when?’ you propped yourself up to look at him and he wouldn't meet your eye. 

You flopped back down on the bed with a frustrated sigh when he didn't answer. “If I didn't know any better I'd say you were hiding something from me”

He propped himself up on his elbow leaning over you, his thumb stroking your cheek as he cupped your face. 

“But that's the thing Court,” you continued, your hand sliding along the length of his arm “I do know you, and I know you're keeping something from me” 

“I-”

“Don't you dare lie to me” you glared “You've known, this whole time…haven't you?” You asked “About Lloyd being alive”

He dipped his head to kiss you and you turned away “Answer me”

“Please,” he whispered “Let's not do this now” 

“Yes, Court!” You yelled “Let's do this, let's do this right now because you know what I think? I think the answer is yes” you snapped 

“It is, isn't it? You knew”

He dropped his head letting out a sigh before looking back at you. 

“Yes” he whispered 

You scoffed, shoving him off before climbing out of bed and pulling on your housecoat. 

“I can't fucking believe you” you muttered tying your robe closed as he pulled on his boxers. “How long have you known?”

You stood with your hands on your hips as he came around the end of the bed. 

“I don't-”

“HOW LONG COURT?!” 

“Since June” 

“June” you repeated with a small laugh shaking your head not wanting to believe the words coming out of his mouth. “So you found out, a month later, and didn't tell me?”

You stalked toward the door and Court grabbed your wrist turning you to face him. 

You wrenched your wrist free and slapped him hard across the face. 

“You lied to me for months!” You yelled before dropping your voice again “You watched me have nightmare after nightmare after-” 

“I know” he sighed 

“Do you?!” You snapped “I still wake up screaming because I watch you die, over and over and over again!” 

Your voice cracked with emotion before you continued. 

“You told me he would never hurt me again, he couldn't…do you remember that?!” 

“I remember “ he nodded slowly 

“Then why?” 

He closed the gap between you, reaching to pull you closer and you slapped his hands away; your eyes filling with tears. 

“I can't believe you didn't tell me” you cried, as he closed the distance, wrapping his arms around you; your fists beating against his chest. 

“I'm sorry” he whispered into your hair 

You cried into his chest and he held you tightly 

“We're supposed to be a team” you pulled back to look at him 

“I needed to keep you safe” 

“You needed to be honest with me” you sniffed as he wiped the tears from your face. 

“You're my wife,” he whispered “It's my job to keep you safe” 

“And you're my husband” you countered “It's my job to keep you safe too” 

“I can-”

“I don't care, Court!” You screamed “I don't care if you can take care of yourself! God!”

You turned on your heel “Don't follow me!” 

You stomped down the stairs and could feel Court's heavy footfalls behind you, following. 

“Fuck off, Court” you snapped, reaching the bottom 

“Hey!” He grabbed your shoulder, spinning you around to face him 

“I said, fuck off!”

“And I said I'm sorry” he growled, pulling you against him before thrusting you against the wall. 

You gasped as all the air rushed from your lungs. Court's weight pinning you to the wall, one hand gathering both of your wrists and pinning them over your head as he crushed his lips to yours. 

You pried your lips from his, gasping for air as his mouth latched on to your collarbone, sucking hard. 

You gasped, nails biting into your palms as Six's hips rolled into yours. 

You fought to pull your wrists free and Court squeezed harder, shaking his head. 

“Uh uh” he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek. 

You whimpered, going limp underneath him as his free hand slid under the robe and between your thighs: his fingers teasing your already sensitive folds. 

“Court” you cried “We can't do this here” 

“Looks like we already are” he whispered against the shell of your ear, as if to punctuate his point, two fingers thrust inside you, making you cry out. 

He pumped his fingers in and out, pushing you closer to the brink. 

His thumb pressed against that little bundle of nerves. 

His breath heavy against the shell of your ear. 

“Maybe I'll fuck you on the kitchen table then” he moaned “And you can explain all their broken dishes”

You shook your head “No….C-Court” 

He hummed appreciatively, nuzzling into your neck. “Again” His teeth scraping over your skin. 

“I'm still mad at you” you fought back a moan. Fighting to twist from under him; albeit half heartedly 

“Good” he growled deeply, his fingers pumping faster.  

“Court, please”

Another appreciative hum “And the best part,” he breathed “They'll never know I made you scream my name finger fucking you against their living room wall”

“God,” you breathed, your weight sinking further down the wall, but Court's hand kept you in one place. 

Your body started to shake and you had to make a conscious effort to stay standing. Your knees had other ideas, giving out from under you, Court's arm locking around your waist, but his fingers never stopped. 

He threaded your fingers together and you squeezed hard. Your other arm dropping to land heavy on his shoulder. 

You rocked against his hand, moaning into his shoulder before you pushed back against the wall, using it for leverage as you came hard. 

You stood up straight as Court pulled his hand from between your thighs and you tied your robe closed. 

You pushed around him without a word, gasping with surprise as he grabbed your waist, pulling you against him. Neither of you spoke before he kissed you again, your stomach exploded with butterflies as his tongue pushed between your lips, his mouth moved against yours, his arm wrapping around your back as you felt your knees falter; he only kissed you deeper, making your head spin. 

His teeth attached to your bottom lip, pulling gently before releasing his hold, making you gasp into his mouth. 

You turned out of his hold and he let you go, watching as you climbed the stairs. The throbbing between your thighs, a reminder of the insatiable need you had for him to be close. 

Pushing from your thoughts as best you could you climbed the stairs to the bathroom, feeling Court's eyes on your back the whole way. 

“I'm getting in the shower” you said without turning around

[starsfic]

Missing Meeting

Summary: Frankie's missing a meeting to throw stuff at the Contestant.

Notes: Introducing my first workplace comedy OC, Maddy Faustina! Her name was randomly generated. She's Frankie's secretary.

-_-

Maddy Faustina was a simple woman.

She liked knowing what was going on and how it affected the schedule. Having her boss overthrown by a cartoon AI that had the attitude of an angry, sadistic toddler and the following death games had thrown her life off-balance, but, strangely, things didn't change much for her personally in her work life at Frankie's. Mr. Ellie looked like a wreck at every staff meeting, but considering his arrogant personality before, it was a nice change. Hey, they were even doing good for the first time in a while!

"Uh, Miss Faustina? Do you happen to know where Frankie is?" Mr. Ellie had poked his head out of the small side office he had been booted to after the takeover. "We were supposed to have a meeting fifteen minutes ago."

"Huh, that's strange." For all her complaints about Frankie's attitude and overall hatred of humanity, he was at least punctual. "I'm afraid I haven't seen him, Mr. Ellie."

He frowned, the nerves disappearing from his face. "I wonder if he's at the parkour palace. Call them up."

Several questions popped up. The first one was there's working phones there? She knew that there was toy phones in Henry Hotline's section, but an actual phone? "Uh...may I ask what he would be doing over there?"

Mr. Ellie shrugged as he retreated back into his office. "Throwing stuff at the Contestant, most likely."

Ah. Right. The reason why they weren't going bankrupt was also the thorn on Frankie's side. Maddy wasn't exactly sure why they were such a big thorn, but Maddy wasn't paid to dwell on that.

It took a few minutes to hunt down the number. Maddy typed it in and waited as it rang...and it rang...and it rang...

"Hello, this is Frankie's Parkour Palace, the largest indoor trampoline, water, and parkour park! How may I help you?"

It took her a second to realize that the voice wasn't a recording of her boss talking. To be fair, not many people had known about "Real" Frankie until the 57th season. "Um, hello? This is Maddy Faustina from the main corporate building. I was wondering if Mr. Frankie is there? He's late for a meeting with Mr. Ellie."

There was a pause and then there was a faintly muffled "I knew things had been too quiet." Before she could ask him to speak up, the cheerful, bordering on maniac, voice grew louder. "Apologies! I believe he's here, but I'm not quite sure where...ah!" There was a pause and then a sigh. "They're throwing stuff at each other...please give me a moment. Unfortunately, the intercom has not been installed in that space, so I will have to take you directly to him!"

"No worries," Maddy said, unsure of what else to say. She didn't expect Mr. Ellie's guess to be literal.

There was a long silence, filled with the sounds of shuffling and an elevator. Faint music soon met her ears, and then louder noises.

Swooshing. Faint growling. A loud cackle, followed by a BANG that made her jump.

"Is everyone alright?" she called.

"Oh, everyone is perfectly fine, our dear contestants are just playing a little rough." The "Real" Frankie assured her before pulling away from the phone. "EXCUSE ME! There's a call for you!"

The noises paused, followed by talking that was too hushed to make out before a similarly cheerfully maniac voice spoke, echoing off whatever room they were in. "Hellooo, Miss Faustina! How can I help you?"

"Uh, Mr. Ellie requested that I call since you are running late for you two's three o'clock meeting."

There was a chuckle. "Oh dear," Frankie said, not even bothering to hide the delight in his voice. "I'm so sorry! I'll buzz over right now since he's so concerned. Thank you, my dear, you're such a doll!"

"...You're welcome?"

The other side went silent and in the office next door, there was a screech. There was some more shuffling on the other side of the call and a voice she did not recognize spoke. "Uh, he left. Hope you have a good day?"

Oh. This must be...

"You too." Maddy hung up and sat there for a second, staring at the email she had been drafting.

She wondered if the Contestant would be interested in joining the employee game nights.

[yuzukult]

yours, but not yours 06 || csc & reader

title: yours, but not yours 06 pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader/oc genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut, fake dating!au, bad influence!seungcheol, nice guy syndrome!namjoon, mechanic!seungcheol wc: 6.7k (1k per month i disappeared lol) warnings: profanity, mentions of sex a/n: ... hopefully y'all didn't forget me,, if this chapter is mediocre i am so sorry i'm trying my best here T_T i had to rewrite the chapter a couple times & ended up going with a different route (which may be slightly unexpected) but the series isn't over yet !! this is the calm before the storm ok

There’s nothing worse than being proven wrong.

It’s like when you’re a toddler, your mom tells you to not eat the spicy slice of pork belly, knowing very well that you wouldn’t be able to handle it but you still beg her anyways. Then when you’d finally get a bite, your face contorts into a pained one, desperately wishing that water would be more relieving to the tongue as it is to a house fire. Or like when your high school best friend told you to maybe not get involved with the guy who has quite the reputation, but your constant urge to break the rules practically drowns you, so you go for him anyway. Then, when he left you crying outside on his porch, beseeching him to come back after you clearly saw him cheating on you with that other pretty girl in your Art class with that cool hot pink dyed strip of hair, you’re yet proven wrong again, only to be running to your best friend’s house after you regained your senses.

This is probably another one of those times. And truthfully, maybe you’ve evolved, but there’s this part of you that wishes you’re wrong.

Seungcheol is definitely nothing close to what you’d ever expect to be your type. He’s not the traditional kind of guy—office job, either living alone and saving for a house or lives in a house he owns, has a car, wears business casual clothes on the weekdays, maybe even into different types of beers, occasionally plays a gaming console—instead, he’s a mechanic with a motorcycle and likes to flirt with you whenever he gets the chance. He favors the torn up and stained attire, despite having money (which… you’d only find out not too long ago) but he does love alcohol. Whiskey being on the top of his list; beer is more of an option for social events, he mentions it the one night he stayed late in the garage when you came down with two bottles in hand. “I had leftovers. They were gonna go bad if I left it any longer,” you said as you handed over the Miller Lite. He popped the cap off on the edge of the workstation, swapping it with you after, then opening his own in the same way. “Let’s not put it to waste.”

And here you are, two days after the event, groggily putting laundry into the washer with your head full of—you guessed it!—Choi Seungcheol.

The last encounter was left with you exiting his childhood bedroom with disheveled hair, wet panties, and awkwardly adjusting the fabric of your dress. No phone call to follow up, no text—nothing. Fucking radio silence.

How does someone fucking rail you into the mattress, whisper the dirtiest things in your ear, then claim you as their own and suddenly just go off the grid right after? You didn’t see him for the rest of the night, and when you went back to Rowoon, he didn't interrogate you on your relationship with Seungcheol after he shut him up. The whole thing was eating you up inside to the point that you were fucking wishing that Rowoon would ask, just to have a soundboard for this dilemma.

Was that the finale of it all? Is this the end of You & Seungcheol: The Not-So Love Story? He hasn’t even been back to the garage yet, and it’s got you pondering why he didn’t even bother to send a fucking text. A text! It’s not that hard to send a text.

But maybe this is what that whole “karma” thing people keep talking about—what goes around comes around, right?

You groan. Slamming the door shut, you pull out the dispenser drawer of thr washing machine aggressively. Just like when he pushed you against the wall that night, knee shoving your legs apart as he looked at your lips with furrowed brows. You couldn’t help but grip onto his biceps—he was so thick in that shirt, hugging every curve of his body in waves you didn’t know would leave you breathless from the sight. How is he so hot when he’s angry? He didn’t even have a right to be, you weren’t his (even though he continuously thrusted his hips into yours, heated breath against your neck with the word, “mine,” constantly falling off his tongue effortlessly), but god he was good at convincing you that you were.

You shake your head. Fuck! This is frustrating. Not sexually frustrating, (you’re lying, that’s definitely part of it), but frustrating in the fact that you don’t know where this leaves you. Are you still fighting? Do you make up? What… now? And why the fuck do you keep finding yourself asking the same goddamn fucking question with him?

Nearly overflowing the compartment for the detergent, you quickly grab a wet rag to wipe off the excess that spills as you mutter a couple curses underneath your breath. 

He’s got you in a chokehold; how is it that a guy who wasn’t even on your fucking radar suddenly the only one you can think about? Even when you’re vacuuming your living room, you don’t even recall grabbing it from the closet. All you have infiltrated your mind is Choi Seungcheol. 

Honestly, you’re a dick.

For one, you’re finally coming to your senses that disregarding Seungcheol’s feelings isn’t fair. He’s been nothing but helpful the entire time you’ve known him; last month, he replaced your windshield wipers when he noticed the rubber was tearing off. He ended up pulling out the weeds from the front of your house after the awkward attempt to water them, and not to mention, he came up to your home when he heard a screech (you’re afraid of cockroaches, and you didn’t admit it even after Seungcheol killed it with a flip flop). 

But who really is the dick here? He hasn’t called you, texted you, or anything really. Quite literally have given you the post-nut clarity you needed, only for him to ghost you.

To fucking ghost you! The guy who said he’s head over heels for you, swooning all your friends into believing he’s your boyfriend, and well—also pretending to be your boyfriend, even when he knows what the consequences for it are. 

Then again, who cares… right? He’s just some buff mechanic, a fuckboy, and a tenant.

(You almost used the “tenant” excuse to text him, but you hold yourself back and don’t. Only because when the 25th rolls around, you actually have to ask him for rent.)

As you’re making your bed, throwing the sheets up to float down and align with the mattress, your phone rings.

At first, you think it’s your mom, so you let it ring for a little. She has the tendency to never pick up the phone, and although you never have the audacity to ignore her call, you let it ring a couple times out of pure pettiness.

That is, until you realize it’s actually Seungcheol’s name on the lockscreen.

“Hey,” he greets; it’s a mixture of uncertainty and excitement, probably because he knows what he did wrong in terms of leaving you hanging but he misses hearing your voice. “Um, how are you?”

“Not great.”

“Oh? What’s wrong?”

You roll your eyes, despite him not being able to see the action right now, he could feel the burn through the phone. “Actually, don’t answer that. I know, I—”

“What happened?” You snap, pacing in your bedroom. “You fucking told me that you were anything but a fuckboy, and the moment that I let myself be vulnerable, you just leave me hanging? What the fuck was that? Am I just wasting my time with you, Seungcheol?”

It stings.

Of course, everything with you stings. In both a good and a bad way, the words you say always seem to ache, tighten, and sting his chest, all from a variety of emotions you spew out so transparently. You’re so real and raw in the way that if he fully commits to you, that’s it—he’s done. There’s no going back to the lifestyle he had before, no fucking around and dicking around.

And as scary as that is for him, hearing that it’s with you, he’s okay with it.

But he’s now in the position where he doesn’t know how to make that happen. Not after all the current events.

“I got caught up,” he says, unable to even believe himself despite it being completely true. The night of the event, you found yourself scrambling out of his bedroom after sex and his dad called about some emergency with the company—Seungcheol has been in Malaysia since. “I really wanted to call and text—really, I just… didn’t know what to say.”

You scoff in disbelief. “Anything would’ve sufficed. I don’t know where that leaves us now. I’m trying, Seungcheol, I admit I was a jerk for disregarding your feelings and never taking you seriously. But when you pull a stunt like this, it doesn’t really make me believe that you’re not just setting me up.”

He stays silent for a moment; you could almost hear the ringing in your ears from the quietude, and you wonder what’s going through his mind. 

“Seungcheol?”

“Yeah,” he says breathily. “Yeah, I—I’m still here.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Can you—Can you take off? Just the Friday. Can I get you on a plane on Thursday night, and you come meet me for the weekend? My treat.”

Choi Seungcheol never really lived an average life.

It all really started when his mom met his dad back in college; this innocent, bowl-cut boy with the thickest glasses of the century, eyesight nearing partial blindness had a crush on the prettiest girl in his economics class. His reputation was practically nonexistent other than for the fact that he looked nerdy, and hers was being… almost every positive adjective in the book. He’d gather the courage to ask her out, expecting a rejection, only for her to turn his way, those chocolate irises sparkling underneath the hallway lights while she said the word that was opposite to his predictions. Yes.

She stuck with him through all of college—even though she had a line of suitors waiting for her, she was always in love with the reputable nerdy boy. Despite what people thought of him, Seungcheol’s dad never failed to make sure she felt loved and supported through the entirety of their relationship. Even when he had these big goals to build a company from the ground up, he kept her as his priority and that never changed.

It’s a love story for the ages, one that his mom reiterated as she tucked Seungcheol into bed during his youth, but he didn’t quite resonate with it because how could someone like his dad be the one to make his mother swoon in that way? The man who sat at the end of the dining table, reading glasses at the tip of his nose even after getting lasik to rid himself of those stocky lenses, physically there but not… present.

Even now, as he’s sitting beside his father at his hotel room’s dining table, he still doesn’t feel him.

But to be fair, can anyone find comfort in a room full of stone tiles, high ceilings, and a chandelier that probably costs more than the average car times eighty?

“Tell your brother that he’s coming tomorrow,” he says, eyes never leaving the screen of his iPad. His father has since graduated from a newspaper to a tablet. “He has a presentation Friday, and he needs to rehearse everything he says. Can’t believe he fucked up the last one.”

Seungcheol sucks his cheeks. He clicks send on the message meant for his brother, feeling more and more like an assistant than someone who was next in line for the throne of the company. “Aight. Sent. Why am I here, by the way? You just so happened to drag me here? I thought there was a company emergency.”

He finally puts down his tablet. “There is. I’m dying.”

Seungcheol’s heart drops. “You’re… dying?” 

“Well, not that I’m sick—god forbid, but you never know when I’ll die.”

That pretty much explains the origin of the majority of Seungcheol’s traumatic childhood.

“Dad, I don’t think it works like that,” he retorts with the quirk of his brow. “I thought it was a literal emergency. I left—”

“What? The garage? Come on, don’t act like I don’t know. I keep tabs on all my children—like right now, your brother is at his girlfriend’s house. The one he has yet to introduce to us, and in fact, I don’t think I like her.”

Seungcheol’s face contorts in confusion. He knows his dad like the back of his hand; if he didn’t know about the garage, Seungcheol would’ve been surprised. It’s almost an expectation that he would track both Seungcheol and his brother, and truthfully, it wouldn’t be totally out of character if he was tracking Seungcheol’s mother either. 

“You’re always pressuring us to get married and run the company—isn’t him having a girlfriend just him going the right route? I’un get it. Isn’t that enough?”

Maybe that’s why Seungcheol only had flings; the girls weren’t ever disappointed in sex, and they never stuck around enough to figure out that he carried so much baggage. The wealth in his pockets might’ve been the reason for the hearts in their eyes (and his dick), but if they knew the weight of expectations from his parents that came with it, they’d run in a heartbeat. He didn’t want to bring anyone close enough that they’d meet his family, have to deal with the burdens he did, and it’s mostly why he’s been hesitant about telling you… everything. Even when he wanted to.

“I wanted him to date that girl, the one whose father owns KS Bank.”

Of course, everything loops back into business.

“Well,” Seungcheol begins, getting up from his seat. “He’s happy. Regardless if his girlfriend is a stripper or her dad owns KS Bank. If you want both of us to run the company, we should at least come home to a companion that we love and care for, shouldn’t we?”

His dad returns to his iPad, adjusting his glasses once again. “It’s not beneficial for the family business.”

Deja Vu hits—that same feeling he got when Namjoon swung at him returns, except the courier this time is his own father.

But just as he reacted with Namjoon, he remains cool. 

Seungcheol probably rehearsed it a million times in front of the mirror, all the possible things he could say to refute his father’s beliefs. If his brother wasn’t in love with the girl he’s supposed to marry, sure, her status would definitely benefit the company, but… would he even want to help out anymore? Isn’t his happiness the priority?

Nonetheless, he knows that fighting back isn’t worth it. 

Instead, he figures channeling that energy toward you would be more productive.

Although, with the last encounter the two of you had, it’s a bit doubtful he’d be able to achieve anything from being miles apart. For one, asking you to come see him when he had absolutely no plan whatsoever on what would happen when you arrive is… bold. Not to mention, you rejected his offer, saying something along the lines of, “that’s not how asking for forgiveness works,” and “things don’t get resolved on some ‘vacation high,’ Choi Seungcheol.”

And by all means, you’re 100% right.

This is an entirely new territory for him—he’s never actually had to ask or beg for forgiveness before because quite frankly, he never cared to. Burning bridges wasn’t a new concept for him, it was something he frequents. His mom never seemed disappointed, so he never felt the need to be apologetic, even if he felt the guilt, the words never emitted. Or when his father made that signature displeased ‘tsk’, Seungcheol had always been below the expectation that forgiveness wasn’t even worth chasing after. 

But you—this experience with you, is a whole other thing.

That guilt gnaws on his insides brutally; he could physically see the impact that you have on him from his disheveled hair, bags underneath his eyes, and the sullen look on his face. Do you hate him? Do you want nothing to do with him? Did he ruin all his chances with you?

He’s never really had a serious relationship before—well, rephrase, Seungcheol has only ever had one serious relationship. “The Classic Couple,” was what they were called; they were the pair that the wealthiest parents would arrange for their children. The only thing wrong with them was that they didn’t work—or well, Seungcheol couldn’t make it work.

With a click of his tongue, reality settles in. If he really wants this, truly feels like there could potentially be more with you, then he has to make it work. This isn’t like the woman before you, you’re… you. Whether or not it lasts forever or just a couple months, he likes you—shouldn’t that be enough? Especially when you’re finally opening the door and hearing him out, stepping out of your own comfort zone? 

“I’m gonna head back home then, since it seems like I’m not needed here,” Seungcheol says, grabbing his phones with a soft ‘thanks’ to the staff as they clear the plates. “I’m sure you two can handle things from here. If there really is an emergency—”

“You should’ve stayed with that girl,” Seungcheol’s dad interrupts, infamously cutting him off as usual. “The girl you dated a couple years ago. Margaret.”

“Maeri,” Seungcheol corrects. “Her name’s Maeri.”

And for the first time, his father’s lips curl into a smile. “So, you remember her.”

“Well, we dated for a while.”

“Shouldn’t have lost her,” he says, inhaling deeply. “I think I can reach out to her father and make an agreement. I’m sure she’d be happy to have you again. I ran into her at the banquet and when I brought up your name, her face lit up.”

Seungcheol stares at his father in disbelief. “Again, I feel like we should have more control over who we end up with, not you. I’m more than happy to try assisting you with whatever it is you need but I should be the one who chooses who I want to be with.”

“And? You chose her before, you can choose her again.”

Seungcheol quits this time, reminding himself again that he needs to preserve his energy for you.

There are a mixture of emotions that are flowing inside of you, eagerness and confusion, unsure of which to display. Do you showcase your excitement and elation or do you express the frustration and annoyance? Normally, it doesn’t really matter which you decide to promote; it’s only because this time, your reaction will result in what happens next.

Seungcheol sits on the hood of your car; in a leather clad jacket that hugs his arms so tightly, you’re almost tempted to spill an insult from between your lips on how he should get a size up (even though you most definitely can’t even stop staring), hair slicked back, and baggy black jeans, it’s the signature look of practically every label that Namjoon had given him. Seungcheol doesn’t say a word—instead, he watches you attentively, trying his best to determine what the expression on your face depicts. 

He can’t quite tell what you’re thinking. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask, finally shattering the silence. “Get off my car.” You don’t really mean that, you like him here, and the fact that he’s back, still himself with that smirk on his face, only comforts your heart.

“Come on, baby,” he calls out, ignoring your sharp words with his fingers barely grasping onto yours, tugging you in close. The pet name that’s disgusting from a stranger is somehow sweet when it slips off his tongue, luring you in like some hypnosis spell. “You don’t miss me?”

Of fucking course you do—if it’s one thing that you admit, it’s that you were wrong about him. He’s not what those labels people whispered through the grapevine, completely different from an unattached, apathetic guy who doesn’t want anything that lasts longer than a night. 

But you’re not gonna let him know that. At least, not that easily.

“No,” you retort through your gritted teeth, almost as if it’ll filter the insincerity of that response. “What’s there to miss?”

His hand slips into yours, interlocking your fingers before pulling you nearer. “Everything. Was it quiet down here? Were you lonely? Did it feel weird not to see my motorcycle out front? Or the garage open? What about my company? I know you hate the way I chew on gum, but I’m sure you missed hearing it in the background.”

You chew the inside of your cheek.

He’s so cute, and you feel like an idiot for being another girl that ends up on the list of falling for his irresistible charms. 

“I felt like a one-night stand, Seungcheol,” you confess, his full government name slipping off your tongue with bitterness that hits his ears. He couldn’t get a pet name out of you, but his nickname is enough and his smirk is wiped from his face within seconds. “We fucked then you suddenly pick up a phone call then I just—I never hear from you again.”

“I admit that it didn’t help my case,” he sighs, pushing himself off your car. You’ve got your arms crossed against your chest, a shield to protect yourself from him. “And I can fully explain.”

He starts off with his dad—this cold, distant man somehow ended up with a woman that’s the opposite. Underneath that hard facade, he’s a father who wants his two sons to run his business, only that neither of them inherited the drive to push the company the way that he does himself. 

“… That night that I left, I didn’t come back to the party ‘cause my dad made it seem like the company was goin’ under,” he discloses, deciding that now, he isn’t going to hide anything from you anymore. “I thought I had to go into this big board meeting with my brother and sign off to sell shares of our company ‘cause my dad fucked up or something.”

You roll your lips. There’s a bit of regret for making him feel bad, but it doesn’t discount how he made you feel either. “And then?”

“It was some stupid trap,” he groans, shaking his head. “He’s really good at doing that ‘we’re blood,’ guilt scheme. But uh, listen… I don’t expect you to forgive me or for this to fix up overnight.”

“Then what do you expect?”

“Honestly, um,” and for a moment, he pauses before chuckling. “I really contemplated asking you to be my fake girlfriend. My dad has this thing where he’s constantly trying to set me up with other women—”

The fronts of your brows shift together.

“—but,” Seungcheol adds, hoping you pause your thoughts from going in a direction where you’d stray from him. “To me, there’s just you.”

You blink blankly. “And what does that mean for us then? Where do we go from here?”

He slowly eases his arms to wrap around your waist, hesitant in his movements to confirm that you’re okay with his touch, only to then feel the anxiety lift from his shoulders when the weight of your arms replaces it. “We can… fix us. If you can push aside all the prenotions you’ve had of me, view me as someone that could be your boyfriend, then I want this if you do.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks; Seungcheol always manages to make your heart skip in its beats and cause that churning in the pit of your stomach. “Okay… but—” his smile fades the moment the second word appears, “—but we have work to do. You can’t exactly say we started off on the right foot.”

That stupid grin pulls on his lips once again as he settles back down onto the hood of your car, legs parting for you to sit yourself in his thigh, arms never leaving your frame. “I agree, pretty. I’m ready to do this when you are.”

And with a soft kiss planted on your nose, the comfort and warmth it brings makes you feel like this… is right.

Seungcheol admits that within the last month, his life has been pretty mundane in comparison to what he’s used to.

For one, he hasn’t received a call from his parents. Maybe they’re way too occupied to be concerned about him or that there wasn’t enough going on for him to tag along for, but all he knows is that it’s been radio silent on their end. Plus, the garage has been rather busy lately—he credits you for the increase in foot traffic, recalling how you rolled your eyes and snatched his phone from his hands on a Saturday night lounging on your couch, muttering “how are you supposed to get any business if you don’t advertise yourself?” Truthfully, he’s been banking on word-of-mouth from your neighbors that found out he does car maintenance, but this newfound array of customers isn’t so bad.

He likes the simplicity of this—in the mornings, he’d get to the garage early in the morning and park his motorcycle right by your steps. Pushing the overhead door with a rumble, he’d brush his hands off from the dirt residue left on the rubber at the bottom before placing his hands on his waist to take a good look at his shop—yes, his shop. He’d gotten so accustomed with calling it a literal garage that he forgets that it’s really a shop. Brew a pot of coffee, turn on the little TV he got for waiting customers (really, it’s for himself) before he got to business.

Then, around 6PM, you’d be back from work, dragging your legs up the steps into your home and he’s behind shortly after closing up. He enjoys how domestic everything with you is—cooking dinner together, eating dinner together, and then washing the dishes with one person scrubbing and the other rinsing before settling onto the couch to watch something on TV. Last night, you suggested, “King the Land,” which he normally isn’t a fan of watching K-Dramas, but with you, he finds anything entertaining.

Although the old version of himself wouldn’t ever confess this but… he likes being a boyfriend.

Maybe it’s just specifically that he likes being your boyfriend, considering in his last relationship, he didn’t favor that title as much. But now, he finds himself getting a little giddy inside when you introduce him in that way, almost like little kids get when their crush approaches them.

There’s something about the way you’ve given him a spot in your dresser for him to leave his spare clothes in case he unexpectedly stays the night, and how there’s a toothbrush residing in the cup beside yours, or even the fact that you’ve bought another set of slippers that’s just for him… it makes him feel more at home than at his own home. Seungcheol didn’t sleepover during his wave of late night escapades, but with you, he finds that the left side of the bed unspokenly assigned to him is something he didn’t know he craved for.

Seungcheol loves it. He loves all of it. And truthfully, if he didn’t catch himself before spilling it, he would’ve said he loves you, too.

Today is slightly different than usual, deciding that he would leave the estate earlier (and weirdly enough, living under the same roof as his parents didn’t tempt them from bugging him recently, but they did live on the opposite side of the home) so he could stop by the local coffee shop and grab you a cold brew.

You’re so pretty when you look surprised to see him outside your front door thay morning.

“Hey gorgeous,” he greets, that cheesy smile never leaving his face. You grimace at the term of endearment, but your expression juxtaposes how you feel inside. “I thought you’d like a change of pace and enjoy something from the cafe instead.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, grabbing the drink from his hands. “Vanilla?”

“Three pumps. Just how you like it, baby.”

You’re still so awkward when he says things like that—it used to be so easy to roll your eyes and push him away when he’d do it in such a sleazy way. But now, knowing the genuinity behind the words, he leaves you flustered. Even if he’s annoying and it’s the grossest thing he’s ever said.

“I have about six appointments today,” Seungcheol reaches over to open the lid of his black coffee, the steam rising from the paper cup. “You said you had a doctor’s appointment? So you’ll be back earlier?”

“Mm,” you hum in agreement, zipping up your backpack. “I’ll grab lunch for us?” And shortly after, he watches you drive away to work before getting back to the garage so he could greet his next client.

If this is what it’s like to be part of the working class, Seungcheol could get used to this.

He acknowledges that ever since the two of you had resolved your issues, he got a bit carried away. Investing in his makeshift shop has become a whole ordeal, only because the constant drilling, clanging, and unnecessary constructing noises from the equipment installers weren’t exactly what he thought was going to come out of it for the first two weeks—but the realization that he could grow his business from the new customers made him excited. For the first time, Seungcheol felt like he was doing something he was proud of.

So yes, driving or walking by this garage in the middle of a city suburb underneath a house with a whole jacking up station for cars looks futile, but the abnormally high ceilings of your garage should be taken advantage of.

He likes this—beneath a car, pushing aside the plastic tray from this 2018 Honda Accord after unscrewing it and unplugging the drain plug before it falls into a bucket he uses as an oil receptacle. This is nice. This is calming. There’s no hollering from board members, no backhanded compliments from his father, and no attempts on pressuring him into doing things he doesn’t want to do like date a girl whose father has a monopoly on owning property the next town over.

Seungcheol just wants to watch a gallon of old oil release from a crankcase and into a bucket.

And honestly, he thinks his thoughts have spoken too soon when he notices a Rolls Royce Boat Tail pull into your driveway.

He hasn’t met everyone in your life, but one thing he knows for sure is that even the wealthiest people you know (Namjoon and Yubin) don’t flaunt their money in front of you. The rest of your friends are middle class, average working people, and the only way someone is driving to your home with a $28 million car is if they’re part of his life.

“Choi Seungcheol,” the person calls out; the door is shut behind him with a thud, Louis Vuitton sunglasses sitting comfortably on his nose with his long brunette hair combed away from his face. He dresses in a flamboyant shirt, the first couple buttons unraveled, and in sandals that cost four times your car. “I heard you do mods over here.”

Seungcheol comes out from the garage, brows furrowing when he realizes who makes an attendance at his shop. Juxtaposing in a stained white tank and the upper half of his overalls tied around his waist, for a moment, he felt like the two of them were part of two different worlds. “Yoon Jeonghan–do you really think you want to mod your car? Do you even know what that means?”

Jeonghan takes off his shades and slides it into his shirt pocket. “Absolutely not, I heard some guy mention it in a movie once,” he grins cheekily. “So, I heard you got a new place.”

“Well, I’m renting a garage.”

Jeonghan blinks blankly. “What’s renting?”

Seungcheol chuckles, walking back to his station as Jeonghan follows in suit. “It’s when you pay someone to use their space,” he grabs a rolling chair from behind a desk and gestures to Jeonghan for him to sit down. “What’s up? What are you doing here? You didn’t come here to get a lesson on renting.”

“I’m more surprised that you don’t own this place,” Jeonghan stares at the chair skeptically before glancing over at Seungcheol who points to it again. “And… not owning any new furniture.”

“It’s an autoshop, Hannie.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t afford clean chairs.”

“Alright, alright,” Seungcheol rolls his eyes, grabbing a rag to wipe the opening for any residual oil. “You come here to lecture me about my place or are you here with an actual reason?”

His friend sighs, finally deciding to plop onto the old swivel chair. “I know you briefly told me that you’re ready to move on from your parents…”

Seungcheol scrunches up his face, grabbing a cylindrical tool from off his cart as he eyes Jeonghan carefully. “Something like that, yeah.”

“And rumor has it, your dad hasn’t been happy about your brother and his new girlfriend.”

“I wouldn’t say new, but my dad has been acting new about her.”

“Well, he’s been making moves to target you instead.”

The tool wraps around the oil filter, and with a bit of strength, it loosens as more oil spills from the sides, flowing into the bucket in unison with Jeonghan’s news.

“He’s targeting me? Stop being so ominous and go straight to the point.”

“Maeri’s back,” Jeonghan finally spills, and Seungcheol pauses in his movements. “Your dad met up with hers the other day—I have this bad feeling he’s gonna try to set something up.”

Out of all the people that Seungcheol has met through his parents and from their “community” (aka the rich people cult), Jeonghan is the only person he trusts. Although Jeonghan will never cut ties from his generational wealth, his loyalty as friend and unconditional support for Seungcheol has always been admirable.

“I mean, he hasn’t called me and—”

“Hey! I’m back! I brought—” you stop in the middle of your driveway, staring at the car you could never afford in your lifetime before looking at Jeonghan and Seungcheol. “I—Oh, uh, hey.”

Jeonghan grins mischievously, stealing a glimpse of Seungcheol then back at you. “Hey, I’m Jeonghan. Seungcheol’s friend.”

You mimic his smile, and something in Seungcheol eats him up whole because he’s quick to speak before you do. “Jeonghan meet—” he says your name, then for a brief pause, he calls you by a label so confidently, he even surprises himself. “—my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. He hears Pomp and Circumstance play inside of his head, the image of him receiving his diploma at the podium while in a cap and grown flashes before his eyes. Choi Seungcheol has finally graduated from the school of fuckboys, reaching that point in his life where he looks at the prettiest girl who manages to make his stomach tie into knots and call him his—truly his. 

“Wow,” Jeonghan clicks his tongue. “Your girlfriend? Insane. I thought you said you weren’t gonna settle.”

He shrugs with that smirk on his face. “Wasn’t. But when you meet a girl like her, who are you to say no?”

Your cheeks heat up as you place the bag of food on the coffee table. “It’s uh… nice to meet you. I didn’t know Seungcheol had friends other than the girls he met at the club.”

Seungcheol shoots a glare but Jeonghan snickers. “I like you already,” he compliments, hand sliding into the pockets of his shorts. “I actually came to convince Seungcheol to attend a fundraiser that my mom is hosting this weekend,” the look Jeonghan gives his friend for a brief moment is suspicious, but the next inquiry gives it away. “… You should come too! Be his date.” 

“Oh, um—”

“I’m not sure about that, Hannie,” Seungcheol interrupts, arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t think she’d want to see that part of our lives.”

Jeonghan quirks a brow. “And why not? She’s dating you, right? I’m sure she can answer for herself, and I’m sure she wants to see that side of you and your family.”

Both Seungcheol and Jeonghan divert their attention to you.

“You know, you didn’t have to say yes to Jeonghan,” Seungcheol’s standing outside of your bedroom door, leaning against the wall while waiting patiently for you to get dressed. “It’s a whole thing if we go—it ain’t like going to a work party.”

“Well, he—he made a, ugh,” you grunt, and he could hear you shifting inside with a struggle. “He made a point, if I’m dating you, I’m dating all of you.”

“Baby, why are you getting ready in private again? You’re acting like I haven't seen all of you.”

“I’m just—gah,” you knock your foot into the bed frame and wince. “I feel awkward.”

Truthfully, ever since the two of you had made it official, things haven’t… escalated, ironically. The nights he sleeps over are all pure and innocent; he’d nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, shower you with kisses, and wrap his arms around you to pull you close, resting your head on his chest. 

But that was it.

Nothing more.

He hasn’t asked for it or initiated it, mostly because he’s slightly afraid you’d take it the wrong way but quite frankly, he’s been holding himself quite a bit. From when you come out the shower, the thin oversized shirt that hangs from your body is no match for your nipples protruding through the thin fabric, how you bend over to grab something and your sleeping shorts barely covering any skin, and there was even a time where you’d reach over his lap to grab something, breasts brushing against his thighs and ass up, he was wrestling with his sweatpants to hide his raging boner.

Trying to be a respectful gentleman, he keeps his distance. Normally, he’d be bold in his attempts to sway you—just as he did several times, including that night in his bedroom back at home, but now that you’re his girlfriend, it… feels inappropriate?

Weirdly enough?

A part of him is afraid you’d leave, especially when he’s got you now, but he admits that those cold showers aren’t doing any favors for him anymore.

“…Hey,” you call out again, this time it halts his train of thoughts with the door swinging open. Clutching onto the fabric of your dress in the front, his eyes immediately focus on your cleavage. Fuck. “The zipper is kind of low. Can you help me?”

He swallows that brick inside of his throat when you turn around.

Pushing your hair aside, you give him a view of your entire back. The zipper latch is right where your ass curves, and with a sharp inhale, he places a hand on your waist before pulling it up. It feels brutally slow, not to mention when he reaches up higher, he realizes where he expects your bra—there isn’t one. The smoothness of your skin is exposed and his dick twitches in his pants.

“Uh, um. I’m done,” he steps back, clearing his throat. “Ready?”

He feels like a vacuum sucked the air out of his lungs.

To him, you’re gorgeous all hours of the day. But something about today, in that tight fitting dress that hugs the outline of your body so well, and the makeup you applied only amplifies your beauty. He can’t help himself when he’s sneaking glances at your chest then back up to your eyes to the point he needed to get the fuck out of the house before he oversteps a boundary.

“Wow, uh, you look great!” Way to act natural. “Let’s uh, let’s head out.”

“Mkay,” you make your way before him to the front door, rummaging through the closet for your heels, and he turns away when your ass sticks out while you slip on your shoes. “Can you start the car?”

It’s going to be a long night.

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[polyshodivorce]

I think Emu constantly drags WxS into games after/before practice so here are headcanons of them playing and hanging out. Whimsy and fun wandasho forever

They like to do acting games as a warm up. They take turns acting out a motion, object, or animal and the rest have to guess what it is. Emu repeatedly calls out the first thing that comes to mind regardless of how accurate it is, Tsukasa and Nene are normally the best guessers, but Rui is the only one who can guess what on earth Emu is trying to imitate. She always picks difficult things like food or something random she saw that day.

If they wrap up practice early and have nothing better to do, I think hide-and-seek is a go to. Emu is THE best hider. Being five foot nothing is a superpower, she squeezes herself into tight places like a bug. A majority of the time they give up on looking for her and she crawls out of the most ridiculous hiding spot giggling. It's practically cheating because she knows the park so well. Nene is a close second, she’s a professional at not wanting to be seen.

The worst hider is Tsukasa for no particular reason, he gets really competitive to the point he starts scoping out a spot to hide before practice and but he’s almost always found first and it makes him really mad. Emu and Rui sometimes pretend to pass up his spot so he can feel like he’s winning. Nene doesn’t spare him the pity.

Rui is at a hiding disadvantage because of his height and gets alittle ambitious so he will occasionally get himself stuck somewhere and everyone starts worrying if he’s the last person to be found. He’s annoying to find because he keeps moving to obvious spots the seeker already checked so he knows they won’t come back. Tsukasa and Nene claim it’s cheating and everytime he pulls out the crocodile tears.

Rui is also the most annoying seeker because sometimes he can point out where everyone is hiding without even moving from the spot he counted. They swear he cheats but he just has really good intuition about these kinds of things. Not only can he find them quickly, he could explain the exact thought process that led them to hide there.

“I heard the branches rustling so I knew Emu-kun climbed a tree to my right. Nene gave up halfway through a picked a spot she’s already chosen before and Tsukasa-kun panicked realizing he was running out of time so his hiding was clumsy and rushed.”

...They swear he’s cheating.

If they play tag it usually ends in a showdown between Emu and Tsukasa. Tsukasa takes it as practice for catching her when she sneaks into their school… but playing has only made Emu even faster and better at escaping him.

Normally they limit the hiding range to a specific area, but if they’re feeling especially competitive they will play the game with full range of the park while RoboNene and the mascots help as seekers.

Rui is actually very quick and knows exactly how to get someone off his tail. It’s all “I refuse to jump more than an inch off the ground during MVs” to a professional athlete sprint when it’s time to run away from teachers.

Nene is the worst at tag, sometimes she flat out refuses to play and wonders “How on earth do you guys still have this much energy after practice…?” WxS agreed she can have RoboNene carry her during tag because it’s fun but Rui keeps making suggestions to add rockets to her feet or other outrageous ways to make her faster.

They have a stash of board games in the back of the stage. They’ll play if it gets rainy during practice while discussing their next show. Monopoly turns Rui into a monster, WxS’s TRUE disbandment arc, friendships ruined, lives destroyed, etc. Does his greed know no bounds….!?

They would be suckers for a DnD campaign.

They all lean over Nene’s shoulder while she plays on her phone or whatever handheld console she has and watch like toddlers. She’ll give them a turn if they pull out the puppy eyes for long enough.

[arsenicosises]

things to do when u realize u feel shitty

so i have alexithymia (emotional blindness or challenges in recognizing, expressing, sourcing, and describing one's emotions) and i often dont realize why, whats causing me to feel that way, or even if its mental or physical shittiness. so here are things i try to do to reset.

so the first step is obviously realizing the feeling at first, is your brain making you feel bad about yourself? do you feel like theres no point in doing things? do you feel stuck? or has there been any drastic change in energy in a short time? these may look different for you, but learning to notice even something as small as do i feel Good or Bad, you dont need to get caught up in what specifically it is.

FIRST and foremost, medications. did you take your meds? vitamins? please do so if you can. if you've missed the time window that you are meant to or cant for another reason, no guilt please, its ok we all forget.

move! change locations. even if its just where you are sitting in bed from one side to the other and sit up if you can. i try to move to my desk chair. sometimes just sitting up can change the way you feel drastically.

this could also mean move as in take a walk around your room, stand up on your phone instead of laying down.

do a Task, or Activity. copy a journal spread from pinterst even if it takes like 3 hours. write some lists, make a bracelet, play a game. focus on something you like. very cliche advice i know but its great to allow yourself to do something you like.

get a snack/water. unfortunately hydration is important even tho its annoying. make it super cold, put some lemon or mint in there if you want. its all about making it a) more fun and b) different sensory experiences. if you are hungry go down a mental list of most to least effort meal and find what you can do (cook from sratch, add stuff to ramen, eat it plain, get a handful of nuts or fruits, etc)

open the curtains/blinds, let the outside in a bit. even if its dark out open them and look around and close again.

face feels gross? do some level of skincare, exfoliate your lips and put on some vasesline, brush and floss your teeth (love floss picks). if you have bangs wash them in the sink.

if weather + mental permits, go outside. even for 2 seconds to look at it

shower=full reset and rebirth. not a bath, a shower. let the water hit you and soak your hair. do as full of a shower as you can. use so much moisturizer (if you can) with a scent you love. sensory goodness is very helpful. this usually works for me to pull me out. often the reason why i feel shitty is actually just me not realizing my hair is dirty, or i need alone time, etc which is acheived by showering.

aligned with that, put on new clothes, either comfortable and lounge clothes that are good sensory, or you need a new fun outfit because you have been wearing the current one for too long and its irritating you in a way you dont notice.

clean something, same as the food go from most to least effort and find out what you can do. organize 1 drawer or your whole house. my go to is usually rearraging my bedside table top and drawer. because for me thats where i keep things like my journal, headphones, letters from friends, body butter, etc its a chance for me to help future me access this little self care station.

make your bed so you have a clean cozy place to lay and sit, unfortunately a made bed is more comfortable

in general, treat yourself like a littel guy, talk to yourself like a toddler even if it feels silly, the part of you that feels bad is basically a toddler throwing a tantrum tbh. silliness is often a precursor to feeling Good. these things feel so so hard but each time you do them despite feeling bad it will get easier i promise you, you will get good at what you practice so practice trying.

if all of these things seem too hard, or you cant do them, the main thing is thats ok too. and if you dont feel 100% better after doing these things, that is also ok. the truth is some days things will be hard and that is your body telling you to relax, or sleep, or that it just wants to have an off day. no day is wasted if you are still here to see it.

(a lot of these tasks can be made easier by doing prep when you are feeling Good, which is part of the reason why i made this list, but i might do another post on prep stuff. )